Growing Up
by Fleur27
Summary: Tim is happily on his way to becoming a father when an accident changes everything. The follow-up to Walking Away and Settling Down. Set three years after Settling Down. Tim/OC, Jason/Lyla, Billy/Mindy others.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al, the ****car-fixing, football-playing, hand-crushing, ass-kicking gal) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: This is a third and final installment, the first two being **_**Walking **_**Away, which is set in Tim's sophomore year in college, and **_**Settling Down,**_** which is set in what would have been his senior year in college. You might want to read through those if you haven't already. **

**This one is set three years after **_**Settling Down**_**. Tim and Al live in a house they built on their land. Mindy and Billy have three kids with a fourth on the way. I'll try to make notes when I drop in a minor OC from one of the two earlier stories. I think that's all you need up front to have this make sense.**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

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_February, 2016_

Tim lifted up his head to look at the clock, the red numbers taunting him with the ungodly time of 4.17am, only ten minutes later than the last time he looked. He groaned and dropped his head back onto the pillow and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Next to him, Al was sleeping on her stomach with her head turned away from him. He looked over at her, the moonlight coming through the skylights bright enough to allow him to see the freckles on her shoulder. Tim rolled on his side and softly traced a pattern on her arm.

"Al?" he whispered. "You awake?"

He knew, of course, that she wasn't awake. But he was hoping that would change soon. He moved his fingers up her arm, brushed her blonde curls aside and rubbed the back of her neck. She turned her head and shuffled over toward him. He rolled onto his back and lifted his arm so she could cuddle up against his side, her head on his chest and her arm resting across his torso. He rubbed a hand over her arm while the other tangled in her hair and stroked the back of her head.

"Al, sure you're not awake yet?" he asked a bit louder before kissing her forehead.

She opened one eye and lifted her head to look at him.

"Jesus, Tim, what time is it?"

"Early. Sorry about that. I can't sleep," he said sheepishly.

"And if you can't sleep, I can't sleep, is that how this works?" He loved the way her voice was all gravelly when she first woke up.

"Well, you know, it's just.....aren't you curious?"

"No, Timmy, I'm sleepy." She settled her head onto his chest, pretending that she was going to fall back to sleep for a long time.

He sighed, but didn't argue. He felt her smile before she kissed his chest then lifted herself up on one arm to look down at him.

"Have you slept at all?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"And was this a so-excited-you're-not-sleeping like on Christmas Eve sort of deal or was it more a so-terrified-you-can't-sleep kind of thing?"

"It's more like before a big game, when you're not sure how things are going to go and you just hope you play well and it all goes according to plan."

"All right, then. Let's get this over with. Did you leave the bag in the bathroom?"

He nodded as she rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, rubbing her eyes. Tim followed her. When she got to the door of the bathroom, she stopped abruptly, causing him to crash into her.

"You're not planning on coming in here with me, are you?" She turned around and put her hands on the door frame, like she could keep him out of the room. It always made him smile when she got like this, all four feet, ten and a half inches of her. She reminded him of a little terrier.

"Kinda, sorta, I was, yeah."

"Tim, do you know what makes for a good marriage?"

"Really great sex?" His smile was positively indecent and brought at least a couple of memories to her mind, judging from the way her cheeks were flushing.

"Yeah, well, besides that?"

He put a hand on her hip and shrugged.

"Respect for boundaries, Tim. Respect for boundaries." She punctuated the statement by putting her hands on his chest and giving him a firm shove.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll wait out here."

"How about you go get me a glass of orange juice?"

He nodded, relieved to have something to do. He headed out of the room as she closed the bathroom door. He felt his way through a dark hallway until he reached the living room, which was lit by the moonlight coming through the windows. He easily made his way into the kitchen, fetched the orange juice and returned to the bedroom in time to hear water running.

He sat down on the bed and handed Al her juice when she came out of the bathroom.

"Thanks. Did you buy one of every test the store had?" she asked.

He smiled as he watched her take a sip of the juice. He knew his leg was bouncing but he couldn't help it. He felt more wound-up than he ever had on a game day.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" Al teased.

He grinned. "Sorry, guess I'm just a little enxious."

"Enxious? Is that even a word?"

"Sure it is. It's a combination of excited and anxious. Enxious."

She finished the juice and put the glass down on the nightstand.

Tim put his arm around her and pulled her close. They both watched the red numbers change on the clock until finally Al stood up.

"It's time." But then she sat right back down. "I don't think I can look."

Tim jumped up, took three long strides, and disappeared into the bathroom.

"What am I looking for? A blue line?" he shouted to her.

"One blue line is nothing. Two blue lines is a baby."

Tim came out of the bathroom as quickly as he'd gone in. He picked her up off the bed in a giant bear hug then gently put her down. Her face was still a question mark, so he grinned and nodded.

"Tell me, do you want to be called Mama or Mommy?"

"Honestly, I just want to be called Al."

Tim sat on the bed and pulled her into his lap. "You know what the best part is? Mindy and Billy's youngest will only be a few months older. They'll get to grow up together, go to school together, maybe even be best friends."

Al grinned at his enthusiasm.

"And, you definitely didn't hear this from me, in fact, you didn't head this at all, but Six said that he and Lyla are going to start trying after the wedding."

"Yeah, speaking of Jason and Lyla... I know this is going to be hard for you, but you know this has to stay a secret until after the third month."

"Why?"

"Because anything can happen at the start. It's best to keep things quiet until the second trimester. That's what Billy and Mindy have done, you know."

"Yeah, I know. It's just gonna be hard to keep such a good secret."

"I know, Timmy, but I'll be doing the same thing."

Al slid off his lap and scrambled under the covers, holding them out so he could join her. When he was laying down, she cuddled up next to his side the way she had been when he'd woken her up.

"Are you happy, Al?"

She nodded. "I am. I'm a little nervous and scared, but I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be."

"Me too," he said as he tipped her head back to kiss her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al, the ****car-fixing, football-playing, hand-crushing, ass-kicking gal) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim knew that on one hand, nothing had really radically changed. His wife was still the same old Al he knew and loved. But the fact that he knew she was having his baby.....well, that changed everything for him. He felt incredibly protective of her. At least that's how he would describe it. He knew if you asked her, she'd probably call it something like "ridiculously and annoyingly over-protective."

It pretty much started the minute he saw those two blue lines on the pregnancy test. He'd wanted her to take the day off sick and go immediately to the doctor. She'd laughed and told him it was just a pregnancy, not a medical emergency. Besides, she had a transmission to rebuild that she'd been looking forward to starting.

A week later, she insisted on going to the first doctor's appointment by herself. She promised him that nothing excited happened at the first appointment and that he'd come for the ultrasound, which was the fun part. When Al came back from her appointment, she headed straight for Billy's office and Tim was right behind her.

"Hey Al, how was the doctor?" Billy said absentmindedly as he went through an inventory spreadsheet.

"Fine. I've apparently hurt my back though and can't lift more than 25 pounds."

Billy looked up. "Is this some sort of work-related thing? Do I have to file a workers comp or anything?"

"No, Billy, it's fine. I just have to be careful what I do for the next few weeks is all."

"Yeah, sure, Tim or one of the interns can help you," he said, his attention drifting back to the spreadsheet.

Al went from Billy's office to the break room to get a juice. Tim cornered her by the fridge.

"Why didn't you tell me you hurt your back?" he asked, his quiet voice full of concern.

Al looked up at him, trying and failing to keep from laughing. "I haven't hurt anything, the doctor just said I should take it easy, try to keep the lifting under 25 pounds. That's all. You know the real reason – the back thing is just my cover story."

Tim hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he let it go. He hugged Al and then pulled back so he could look down at her. "What else did the doctor say?"

"Nothing really. Everything's fine, everything's good, have an appointment at the beginning of April for the ultrasound." She pulled him down into a kiss, which he _knew_ was her way of distracting him and it annoyed him how it always worked.

"You guys know this is a work place and that there are minors around," said Jake, the intern who had been at the garage the longest, which was unfortunate because Tim found him and his smart mouth too much to take most of the time.

Al had just smiled, slipped out of his arms and gone back to work.

Working together, an aspect of their life he had previously enjoyed, became extremely difficult. He felt himself fussing around her like a mother hen, trying to do things for her, trying to keep her from hurting herself. The garage suddenly seemed like a menacing place, potential accidents around every corner. He found himself becoming short-tempered, barking at the interns to clean up oil spills and complaining when he found boxes or tools left where someone could trip over them. When he found out that Jake was calling him the Safety Monitor, he knew he had to dial it down, but it was hard.

Al, for her part, was doing fine. She had a little bit of morning sickness and was exhausted when they got home from work, but that was all to be expected.

It was a sunny Friday afternoon in mid-March when Principal Taylor brought her car in for a quick oil change. Al was always coming up with ideas to improve the business and the oil change facility was one of her best. She had convinced Billy to build a dedicated oil-change garage right next to Riggins' Rigs. Then she staffed it with interns from the high school. The interns pretty much ran the oil change place themselves, handling all aspects of management and maintenance with oversight from Billy and Al.

The program was a win for the garage, which got cheap labor and a good profit margin from the oil changes, and for the school, which now had a new vocational education program to offer students. Principal Taylor had asked Al to assist on the creation of a curriculum for the program to incorporate more formal classroom education that combined automotive principles with the subjects the high school was required to teach. Although Tim had scoffed at a "Math for Mechanics" class, the principal seemed to think that this could be a revolutionary way to modernize vocational education and had applied for grants and other assistance for it

Tim happened to be at the front desk when Principle Taylor arrived.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Coach. What can I do for you today?" he asked with a smile. Even though he'd been out of high school seven years and went golfing with Coach Taylor every Saturday, he couldn't bring himself to call either of them by their first names.

She returned his smile and handed over her car keys. "My car needs an oil change and I need to talk to Al."

Tim called Lauren over from the hydraulic lift, where she was helping Billy replace the brakes on a Mitsubishi Eclipse. He knew they weren't supposed to have favorites, but he'd be the first to admit that Lauren was the intern he liked best. She worked hard and listened carefully.

He tossed Lauren the keys and instructed her to change the oil in the car. Then he looked around for Al, spotting her working under the hood of an ancient Dodge Dart. Rather than bellow across the garage, he headed over and put his hand on her back.

"Principal wants to see you. You been cutting class again?"

A look of concern crossed her face. "No. Does she seem mad? Am I in trouble?"

"No, she just brought her car in for an oil change, but she asked to talk to you."

She headed over the front desk, wiping her hands on a rag as she walked. It was near the end of a long day and her curls were struggling to escape from the rubber band that held them into a ponytail. Her shirt tail was hanging out and Tim thought she never looked cuter than when she was all dishevelled.

"Tami! This is a nice surprise."

"Hi Al. Well, Eric couldn't say enough good things about the oil change he got here so I thought I should come see for myself. Plus, it's kind of a two-birds, one-stone sort of a thing since I kinda needed to talk to you anyway."

"Sure, let's find a quieter place," said Al as she headed first toward the waiting room, but then changed course when she saw two children jumping up on down on the couch while their mother scolded them ineffectually.

"On second thought, the break room is probably better," she said.

Tim waited until the two women had disappeared down the corridor before he followed them. He stood in the doorway of Billy's office, which allowed him to eavesdrop fairly effectively since it was right next door. George and Bruno, Tim and Al's dogs, napped on the floor in the office. Tim was concerned that George might blow his cover, but the dog didn't seem aware that he was there.

He heard Principal Taylor say that she had good news, that the curriculum had been approved and the funding had been secured to hire a full-time teacher. Al made the appropriate congratulatory response, then the principal thanked her for all her hard work and was leading up to asking Al something when Billy rounded the corner into his office and crashed right into Tim.

"What the hell-" was all Billy managed to get out before Tim clamped a hand over his mouth. Holding a finger up to his own lips to reinforce the point that silence was required, Tim removed his hand from his brother's surprised face and returned to the listening. But all he heard now was Al politely declining and the principal urging her to think on it, that no decisions would be made right away but that they'd really like Al to do it.

Al then changed the subject by offering to give Tami a tour of the oil-change facility. Tim closed the door to the office before the women walked past.

"Timmy, you want to tell me what the hell is going on here?" asked Billy.

"I'd tell you if I knew, Billy, believe me," said Tim with a sigh as he left the office. He went to the storeroom to unpack a parts shipment. When that was done, he looked for Al, finding her just finishing up the Dodge Dart.

He leaned against the car in a casual way. "So, what did Mrs. Coach want?"

He might be able to lean casually, but his words missed casual by at least three or four miles.

"You tell me – you were the big ears hanging out in Billy's office," Al's mouth was smiling but her words carried a bit of a sharp edge.

"Busted. But Billy ruined everything by walking in just as it was getting interesting."

Al carried a few wrenches back to the tool storage area and cleaned them before putting them away.

"Tami said the program's been approved and they need to hire a teacher. She wanted it to be me, which was kind of sweet, I guess, but I'm not interested."

"What do you mean you're not interested?"

Al shrugged. "I've got a job that I really love – why would I want to be a teacher?"

"Summers off? Easier work? Being inside a warm classroom all day? I can think of plenty of reasons why teaching would be a better job for you. Especially now."

Al's eyes narrowed "Now, later, last week, two years ago, it don't matter _when...._ I. Do. Not. Want. To. Teach."

Tim hated when she got like that. When she dug in her heels, bit off each word, and generally became an angry, stubborn mule. He sighed, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and hung his head.

"OK, Timmy. I'm exhausted and done for the day, so I'm going to go home. You stay here with the dogs and have a beer or two with Billy."

"Yeah sure. We still friends, though?"

She grabbed his shirt, pulled him down and kissed him in a way that left him in no doubt that not only were they still friends, they were still much, much more than that.

"Don't be home too late," she said as she walked away, giving him a look that made him want to follow her straight home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: If you've read the other stories, you know it takes me several chapters to get the plot in place. That's what the next few are going to be, so hopefully they'll be interesting enough to keep you reading. :)**

It was raining, so the brothers sat in Billy's office, their feet up on the desk, drinking beers. Tim found himself worrying about Al's drive home, which he knew was ridiculous because she was an excellent driver. It just seemed like anything involving Al right now caused Tim to worry. He'd never been much of a worrier, now it seemed like he had just been saving it all up until he needed it.

"You're awfully quiet today, Little Brother," said Billy.

Tim shrugged.

"Everything okay with Al? You two didn't have a fight or nothing, did you?"

"Nah, that's all fine....well, mostly fine. It wasn't really a fight. More like a difference of opinion. A major difference of opinion."

Billy looked a question at his brother and waited for him to continue.

"Well, Principal Taylor, she offered Al the job teaching the mechanics program at the high school. But Al don't want to take it."

"Of course she wouldn't want it. C'mon Timmy, could you see that little munchkin trying to teach a bunch of high school guys? And I don't care what Al says about women's lib or whatever, they would be probably all guys. They could bench press her and stuff her in a locker."

Tim hadn't considered that – he'd only seen the job as a way to get her away from all the accidents waiting to happen in the garage.

Tim shook his head. "No way. You've seen her with her brothers – she knows how to put a buncha guys in their place right quick."

Billy finished his beer and picked up a fresh one from the table, popping the top off and dropping it on his desk. "You're right. I'm underestimating her. Still, she loves being a mechanic and teaching high school kids......shit, you hafta be either stupid, crazy, or both to wanna do that."

"Billy, you don't think you could, you know, like encourage Al to take the teaching job?" Tim kept his eyes down as he fiddled with the label on his beer bottle.

"What are you asking me here, Timmy? Encourage her how?"

"I don't know. Like maybe suggest the job security over there is better, that you'd been thinking of making some changes around here or something?"

"Are you asking me to fire your wife? You cannot seriously be asking that."

Tim sighed. "I just think the other job would be a lot better for her, safer, and she's too damn stubborn to listen to reason."

"Timmy, that girl is the best mechanic I have, no offense, but if I had to pick between keeping her and keeping you, let me tell you, it would be a hard decision, and only because you're my brother."

Tim nodded, but still kept his head down. He hadn't actually expected Billy to agree to help. He supposed it was just the desperation that got him to even ask in the first place.

"Is this because Al hurt her back? You know she didn't do that here, right?"

"I know, Billy." Tim rolled his eyes.

"Something is definitely going on here. Are you sure you two aren't having problems?"

"No, things are great, really." Tim looked up at Billy, who looked away quickly.

"Timmy, she ain't gonna break. The girl is tough as nails and twice as sharp. I know she got that food poisoning the other week and that she's been a bit rundown and tired from it, then the whole hurting her back thing, but it's not anything serious."

Tim's lips quirked up into knowing grin. He couldn't believe how easily Billy had bought all of Al's stories.

"Is there something you're not telling me here, Timmy?"

Tim gave his brother a half-shrug, the kind that always meant he didn't want to talk about something. But usually, that half-shrug wasn't accompanied by the sort of shit-eating grin that Tim was currently sporting. Living through his brother's teenage years, when Billy had to study the kid's body language to have even half an idea of what was going on, he knew when something was up.

But Tim wasn't talking. He seemed to take delight in knowing his brother was trying to figure out his secret and was coming up blank. He took a long pull from his beer as he watched the gears turn in Billy's head.

"She's pregnant?" Billy finally asked.

Tim's face lit up with a smile, but he shrugged again. "I really can't say."

"Then she must be! What, she's probably pretty early along – 6 or 8 weeks? And she don't want you telling anyone yet."

"I keep forgetting you're the expert at this. I think it's more like 10 weeks at this point and she doesn't want to say anything 'til after the ultrasound."

Billy wanted to get up and hug his brother, but well, they were never that kinda family. Instead, he picked a foot up off his desk and kicked Tim's feet. "I'm happy for you, man, really happy. So it'll be what, like this fall?"

"October or thereabouts," said Tim, opening another bottle of beer and throwing the top at his brother's head.

"And the new baby is coming in April. That's going to be great. And Al and Mindy can hang out then I won't hafta hear about how much Mindy hates all the other moms in the new baby play group or whatever such shit she's always going to after one of them is born."

"Billy, I didn't tell you this. You have to swear that you'll tell Al that you just guessed it."

"No problem, Little Brother, your secret is safe with me. You hoping for a girl or a boy?" Billy leaned back in his chair and grinned at his brother.

"Haven't really thought about it, to be honest with you."

Billy laughed, picturing what one of Tim and Al's kids would be like. "You're going to have your hands full, Timmy. A kid that's half you and half Al? Stubborn won't even be the half of it. I'm going to enjoy watching this one grow up, I can tell you that."

Tim looked up at Billy and smiled. "Thanks, thanks a lot," he said in a wry voice but he hoped Billy knew that he meant it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading and for reviewing! Hope you're enjoying it so far.**

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After finishing his second beer on Friday night, Tim swore Billy to secrecy on Al's pregnancy and made him promise to find some less physical work for her to do around the garage. Then he'd headed home, where he spent a happy weekend with Al and the dogs, doing not too much of anything in particular. Al had made it clear that she didn't want to talk about names or buy baby furniture or make any plans until after the ultrasound.

Tim woke up early Monday morning in an empty bed, with faint sounds of retching coming from the bathroom. He got up, pulled a shirt on and went over to the door.

"You okay in there?"

"I'm fine. The baby hates Mondays though." Al's voice was faint but Tim could hear the shadow of a smile in it.

"Do you want me to get you some water and crackers?" Tim heard the toilet flush and then heard running water.

"Please."

When Tim returned with a glass and a box of saltines, Al was sitting up in bed. He handed her the glass, put the box on the night stand and then sat down next to her.

"Thank you. You're very sweet."

Tim kissed her forehead. "Well, it's easy to be sweet to you."

Al looked at the time and cursed. "Mr. Wilson is dropping his truck off this morning and he's probably going to be in early. I've got to start moving."

"It's okay – I'll go in for you and you can just come in when you're feeling a bit better."

"Are you sure? I think if I sleep for a couple of hours, I should be good as new. Tell Billy I'll be in by 10."

Tim stood up to get dressed. "I'll tell Billy you'll be in when you feel up to it. And if it's not today, then it's not today. Don't you dare come in just because you think you have to."

Al rolled her eyes but didn't argue, which confirmed Tim's suspicion that she felt worse than usual. Still, he was trying to be more rational about all of this and he knew if he tried to stay with her, she would just worry about the garage.

"I'll take the dogs with me," he said as he went to the door. "Come on, George, Bruno, let's go."

George was up in a flash, dashing out of the room to go dance around the front door, eager for a car ride. Bruno got up with great difficultly and staggered toward the door slowly, his legs stiff and unsteady.

"Hey Al, is it just me or does it seem like Bruno's slowing down these days?"

"It's the rain – bad for his arthritis. That's all."

Tim nodded but couldn't shake the feeling that the dog had lost a bit of his spark.

"Tim, he's getting old. You're going to slow down too when you get old. Don't compare him to George."

Tim went back to the bed and kissed Al goodbye, then headed to the garage. He took care of the morning drop-offs and then got to work fixing a minivan that had been making weird noises. Billy got in before Al and told his brother to send her into the office when she got there.

It was close to 11 when she finally arrived, looking much better than she had that morning.

"Boss wants to see you," Tim said, still half under the hood of a pick up truck, trying to loosen a bolt.

"Thanks." She slapped his ass as she passed him.

"I think I was just sexually harassed. I might need to file a complaint."

"Trust me, I don't think you'll be complaining," she said with a sly grin and a wink. Then she continued on her way to Billy's office. Curious, Tim couldn't help but trail after her.

He hung back in the hallway from a vantage point that gave him a clear view of Billy's desk, but Al couldn't see him unless she turned all the way around.

"Have a seat, Al."

"Sorry I'm late. Tim told you I was going to be, right?"

"Oh yeah, yeah," said Billy with a wave of his hand. "That's no big deal. I've just had some time this weekend to think, about the business and all, and I need to ask you to do me a big favor."

"What sort of favor?" Al asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Well, I'm thinking we need to do a complete audit of the oil change place. Go over the books, make sure the kids have been doing things right. Dot all the i's, cross all the t's....you know, that sort of thing."

"Are you joking?"

"No. I think it would be a good idea and you get the computer stuff best so you're the one who should do it."

"No way, Billy." Al folded her arms and Tim shook his head. Nothing good ever happened after Al folded her arms. It was like her own personal version of a warning shot.

"It needs to be done and I want you to do it. End of story."

"No, not end of story. The accounting software I installed has plenty of features to do auto-reconciliation, create records for audit, and perform different auditing activities."

"Yeah, but I don't trust computers. I want a set of human eyes to check everything out."

"Well then hire yourself an accountant. I'm a mechanic and I've got cars to fix. That's what I do."

"Al-"

"Billy, seriously, go find those guys that tabulate the results for the Oscars and leave me the hell out of it."

Billy had the helpless look of a new swimmer in the deep end. He looked up at the door, trying to get guidance from Tim. Al spun around, following Billy's gaze.

"Billy, can you give us a minute please?"

"Yeah, of course." Billy could not get out of that office fast enough. He shot an apologetic look at Tim and then disappeared down the hallway.

Tim slouched into the office, knowing from Al's overly polite tone and carefully controlled voice that he was in big trouble.

"Sit down, I don't want you towering over me." She leaned against the desk as he sat in the chair in front of her.

"You told him."

"I didn't......exactly..... he just sorta guessed," said Tim, his words sounding hollow.

Al sighed. "First one is free," she muttered, as if reminding herself. Then she took a deep breath and continued. "I know you're excited, but...I guess I'm just superstitious about it or something."

"Sorry. I've been good otherwise, I swear."

"I know you have. You've been great, Tim. Really sweet and understanding and about the best husband a girl could ask for..."

"But I'm driving you crazy?" He looked up at her through a curtain of shaggy hair.

"Worse. More like bat-shit insane. Seriously, you need to calm down. Soon enough, I won't be able to see my feet and I'll have a gigantic belly that will make it impossible for me to work on cars. Let me do what I can now. Please?"

Tim nodded. He hadn't thought of it that way. He held out his hand. Al took it and he pulled her closer until she was standing between his knees.

"I just....I love you both, you know?" he said, putting his hand lightly on her stomach.

"I know you do. We love you too. And we'll be fine. Really."

She kissed him and then stepped back. "I've got to get to work. I mean it though – no one else."

"No on else," he repeated as he watched her leave the office. Billy came in a few minutes later.

"So, you've driven her crazy with the overprotective thing?" Billy asked as he settled into his chair and started rifling through the invoices on his desk.

"What, were you listening in?"

"Nah. Same thing happened with me and Mindy when she was pregnant with Amber. I got that talk a lot sooner though and it involved a lot more shouting – Mindy's got a _way_ shorter fuse than her cousin."

"So, you knew trying to get her to slow down was a mistake?"

"Yeah."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Because you asked me to." Billy found the invoice he needed and began stacking the rest of them into neat piles.

Tim shook his head. "You coulda warned me."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't of listened anyway. Every day that she doesn't break, you'll start to believe that she's not going to break until eventually, you don't worry so much anymore."

"You make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is simple, Timmy. Look, just enjoy the time you have together right now because let me tell you, it all changes after the baby is born."

"Thanks, Billy. Hey, the ultrasound is two weeks from now, on a Friday. Is it okay if we both take the day off?"

"Of course. Make sure you block the day out on the computer calendar. Or at least the morning, before the interns get here."

Tim thanked his brother and left the office, thinking that the next two weeks were going to feel like an eternity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

After the ultrasound appointment, Tim felt almost high from the overwhelming excitement of it all. He hadn't been able to pretend that he could see anything in those fuzzy images. He'd been a bit confused and embarrassed to admit that it didn't look like much of anything to him. Al squeezed his hand and he could tell from the way she smiled that she understood exactly how he felt.

But then the doctor had taken out what looked like a microphone and tape recorder, reminding Tim of a radio reporter. For a crazy second, Tim had the impression that the doctor was going to try to interview his wife's stomach. Then he heard it, the sound of their baby's heartbeat, a fast, steady pounding that made him feel a bit weak at the knees.

On the way home, Tim couldn't do much more than look at Al and grin. He was glad the drive was short because he was starting to feel like an idiot. When they got home, Al asked Tim to start a fire. When they were building the house, he'd scoffed at the idea of a fireplace in Texas, but Al had insisted. They didn't use it very often, but the cool winter days and some of the chilly, wet spring days were perfect excuses to have a fire.

When the fire was going, Tim and Al curled up together on the living room couch, the dogs sleeping on the floor near them. They were silent for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the popping of the fire and the scratching of George's nails on the hardwood floor as his legs moved while he dreamed.

Tim could still hear their baby's heartbeat in his head and he slipped his hand under Al's shirt. She wasn't really showing yet. Maybe if she wore tight clothes, you'd think she'd put on a few pounds. But Tim could see the beginning of a bulge and swore that her skin felt warmer, although she always told him he was just imagining it.

"So the next ultrasound, we'll get to know if we're going to have a football player or a cheerleader, huh?" asked Tim.

Al elbowed him in the ribs. "Cheerleader. Like hell. Over my dead body."

"Ow...I was only joking," Tim said, thinking that cheerleading might be okay but there was no way any daughter of his was going to be a rally girl. "Do you....you know, are you hoping more for one than the other?"

Al took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know.....I want a healthy baby and don't care about the gender. But I think I'd be better at being a mother to a boy, since I understand boys a lot better. Weird, I know, but that's what growing up with seven brothers gets you, I guess."

Tim nodded and watched the flames dance in the fireplace. He didn't realize Al was crying until a tear landed on his hand. He shifted so he could see her face and brushed her curls aside.

"Al, it's going to be okay. Really. You're going to be a great mother, boy, girl, it doesn't matter." He kept his voice low and soothing.

"I wanted a boy, the first time around, you know. Not like actively or anything, but it was just my quiet preference, although I had mentioned it to Stephen. When Avery was born, I was so happy and loved her so much, I didn't care that she wasn't a boy."

Tim stayed quiet while Al paused to take a breath. He wiped her tears away and pulled her closer.

"After.....everything....Stephen was good at first, about not blaming me, until he finally did start to blame me. One of the worst things he said to me is that I was careless because she was a girl, that I never would have left a boy like that."

Tim rubbed her back, wanting more than anything to interrupt and assure her that Stephen had just been acting like a jackass. And then he wanted to drive to North Dakota, find the guy, and beat the crap out of him.

"Then it became a question that haunted me for the next few years. I know now that he was just lashing out because he was hurt, but still....it colors everything somehow. You know what, I don't want to talk about this anymore. This is a happy day, for happy things only."

"You can talk about whatever you want to talk about."

"And I want to talk about happy things. I'm all emotional and hormonal, doesn't take much to set me off in any direction, so let's try for a happy direction. How about names? You have any idea about names."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out through puffed-out cheeks. He shook his head. "I'd sort of like to do Billy the honor of naming a boy after him, since that's what he did for me with TJ, but I don't like 'Will' or 'Willie' and it would feel wrong to call anyone else 'Billy'."

"William can be the middle name, you know?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." Tim paused for a few beats before continuing. "It just seems so hard, like such a big responsibility. You don't want to name the kid the wrong thing and then he gets beat up every day and has a miserable life."

"You really think any kid of ours is going to get beat up every day?" asked Al, twisting around to get more comfortable.

Tim grinned. "No, I suppose if anything, we gotta worry about the opposite. How did you name Avery?"

"The deal that Stephen and I had was that he got to name a boy and I got to name a girl. The deal was his idea because he was insistent that his son have his full name."

"So Avery was all your idea? It's a pretty name."

"It is a pretty name, but I wanted it to be more than that. I'd been reading _The Color Purple_ and was taken with Shug Avery. She was a jazz singer who did her own thing and didn't let people's opinions get to her. Most of the town thought she was some sort of loose woman and couldn't see past that, but she was so much more. She had a kind, generous heart and an adventurous spirit that no one else could control. I guess those were some of the things I hoped my daughter would grow up to be.....well, except for the loose part."

Tim looked around at the book-lined walls, not at all surprised that Al had turned to books to help her make an important decision.

"I don't want to make that kind of deal with you. Whichever name we pick, we come up with it together," Tim said.

Al nodded. "You have any ideas then?"

"Nah, not really. How about you?"

Al stood up and stretched. "Well, I did have one idea that's been with me lately. I want to re-read the book to be sure though."

She went to a bookcase across the room and spent a few seconds looking, then pulled out a small paperback with a splashy painting on the cover.

"You read _The Great Gastby _in school?" she asked.

Tim gave her a sheepish grin. "I didn't really read much in school."

Al came back to the couch and laid down so that her head was in Tim's lap. "Right, I forgot. Rally girls.....there is no way-"

"Way ahead of you on that one, Al. I know too much about rally girls to let my daughter even think about doing it....so, the book. You're not thinking of naming the kid Gatsby are you?"

Al laughed. "No, not Gatsby. I was thinking about Nick, after the guy who tells the story. He's quiet, steady, open-minded, non-judgemental, and is the sort of person that people trust with their secrets."

"Sounds like a good guy."

"You might think this is weird, but I was going to read the story out loud, for the baby, since it's good to talk to them and everything. You're welcome to listen, if you want."

"Sure," Tim said, running his fingers through Al's hair. He settled back into the couch and closed his eyes as Al began to read.

_In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I'd been turning over in my head ever since. _

"_Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone," he told me, "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had all the advantages you've had."_

Outside, it started to rain, the steady drops providing a percussive background for Al's reading. Concerned about falling sleep, Tim opened his eyes and looked around the room at the fire, the sleeping dogs, his wife. He knew that growing up with a lot of advantages wasn't something anyone was going to accuse him of and it was a special kind of vindication to realize that his children, at least, were going to born into a happy, loving home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The fact that Billy had gone through all of this three times with Mindy and was most of the way through the fourth time was reassuring to Tim. He usually didn't even have to ask questions or tell Billy what was going on. His older brother would just dispense random advice when they were together.

_Of course you're not going to hurt the baby, just be grateful she lets you touch her at all_....

_Get her whatever she wants, trust me, it's easier that way...._

_Dear God, Timmy, whatever you do, don't ever, __**ever**__, say anything that even implies that she's gotten fat. Butterball or something might sound cute to you, but it's seriously not worth the trouble._

Tim was walking through the supermarket at 2am on a Friday, smiling to himself as he tried to juggle a bag of oranges, a carton of lemonade, and a jar of caramel sauce. He really should have gotten a basket, but then it felt too much like shopping. Besides, he only had one last thing to pick up.

In the frozen food section, he found the pizza rolls, something Al had always found disgusting until she suddenly got a craving for them. Tim grabbed two bags and turned around quickly, finding himself face-to-face with Billy.

"Give me a couple of those, there, Timmy," said Billy with a grin.

"You're kidding. They're craving the same thing?"

"Looks like it. Who knows how these things work?"

Tim dropped the pizza rolls into Billy's basket and turned around to get two more.

"Just tell me she's not going to use the caramel sauce on the pizza rolls. That would just be gross," said Billy.

Tim shook his head, but said nothing else.

"C'mon then, I need to get ice cream too," said Billy.

"I don't. I'm done."

Billy looked at his brother. "Then why the hell do you need caramel sauce?"

"Don't ask," said Tim, feeling his cheeks flushing.

It took Billy about thirty seconds to process the response, then he burst out laughing and pounded Tim on the back. "You're a lucky bastard, you know that, right?"

Tim shrugged. "Billy, seriously, you can't say anything. She'd kill me if she even thought I kinda sorta ever told you anything. She gets really weird about that since you're her boss and everything."

"Please," Billy snorted. "I might own the garage, but being her boss? It's not possible to be the boss of a force of nature.

Tim grinned and followed his brother to the ice cream freezer and then to the checkout. After they'd finished their purchases, they stood by the door of the store, getting ready to head out into the rain. Tim looked at Billy. Maybe it was the harsh fluorescent lighting, but Billy looked tired and run down.

"You OK, Billy?"

"Yeah, you know, just tired. I don't know why, but this one's been harder. Amber and TJ have been good but Jack is just wired all the time. But it's not like we're not used to taking care of multiple kids.....Maybe because Angela's not around to help out. I never realized how much she did for us."

Tim nodded. Since he'd never seen her that often, it was easy for him to forget that Mindy and Tyra's mom had died a year and a half earlier.

Billy zipped up his jacket, pulling the collar up close around his neck. Then he slapped his brother on the back of the head, tousling his hair and bending his head down, just like he'd done since they were little. "Go on home, I'll see you Monday."

"Not a word to Al, Billy, I mean it. Not even half a look."

"Relax, Little Brother. I'm real good at playin' dumb."

"That's 'cause you ain't playin' most of the time," said Tim as he dashed out the door to his truck.

Tim and Al had the sort of weekend he loved best, slow and lazy with a lot of time spent in bed. It rained all weekend, so there was nothing else to do anyway. At least that's what Al had tried to tell him, but he'd just kissed her and told her that they didn't need any reasons or excuses.

He was relieved that she was pretty much her same old self. The morning sickness was nearly gone and although she could be a bit moody, it was manageable. She still wasn't quite showing and even though she could still button her pants, she found them uncomfortable. She'd taken to wearing sweatpants or yoga pants instead of her usual jeans or cargo pants.

Tim offered to go shopping with her for maternity clothes, but she'd declined on the grounds that it was nearly impossible to find pants that would fit her length-wise and she wanted to wait as long as possible.

Mindy went into labor late Sunday night, finally giving birth to an 8-pound boy named Cody Monday afternoon. Shortly after Billy's phone call, Al asked Tim to round up the interns and bring them to the office for a meeting. When he arrived, trailing behind the five teenagers, he found her sitting on Billy's desk, her legs swinging several inches above the floor. The interns stood in front of the desk awkwardly, with the exception of Jake, who leaned casually against the filing cabinet like he owned the place. Tim sat down in Billy's chair, looking out at the interns and wondering what Al was going to say.

"I wanted to let you guys know that Billy's son was born this afternoon, so Billy's going to be out for at least this week, probably next week too. You can give me your time sheets on Friday."

Al paused, looking around to see if there were any questions. Five blank faces stared back at her.

"OK, while we're talking about babies-"

"You going to tell us where they come from?" interrupted Jake, causing a few of the interns to laugh.

Al silenced the laughing with a dark look. "No, Jake, I'm sure that's something you can figure out all on your own....Tim and I are expecting a baby in October. So, Jake, Danny, now you know that I'm not just letting myself get fat."

Danny, at least, had the decency to blush but Jake just stood there with that shit-eating grin that made Tim want to punch him. Carlos leaned over to Javier and whispered something in rapid-fire Spanish.

"Carlos, for the record, I don't need a reason to be a bitch. And thank you, for volunteering to clean the toilets and sweep the floors every night for the next two weeks. That's really sweet of you." Then she said something to both of them in Spanish. Tim enjoyed the looks on their faces as they realized that everything they'd thought was just between them for the last year had been possibly overheard.

Al waved her arms, dismissing the interns. After they'd left, she hopped off the desk, shut the office door, and closed the blinds. Then she went over at sat in Tim's lap.

"I just need five minutes before I can go back there and supervise those savages," she said.

Tim rubbed her back. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"Why would you? It's not much, anyway. Languages are easy for me – like catching a cold or something," she shrugged. Tim smiled at her. He had a hard enough time with English, his only language, on a good day. He hoped, not for the first time, that their baby took after her in the smarts department.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The weeks between the first and second ultrasounds were all about plans and preparation. Not just for the baby, either. Jason and Lyla's wedding was at the end of August and Tim was their best man. He had to find a suit that would meet Lyla's exacting standards and also had to write a speech. He was dreading that part the most, but Al had promised to him so it wouldn't be a complete disaster.

Planning for the baby was a lot more fun and Tim didn't even mind shopping for the crib and stroller. He was always astounded by the amount of equipment babies required. Car seats and high chairs and playpens and swings and walkers not to mention all the clothes. He remembered all too well his experiences babysitting his niece and nephews and how they could go through about six outfits in a day.

Billy had warned him that Al might just "pop" one night, that she'd go to bed with a small bulge and wake up with a big ol' pregnant bump. Tim had thought Billy was just exaggerating or teasing, but it sure seemed like that's how it happened. About a week before the ultrasound, Al finally looked unquestionably pregnant. She reluctantly agreed to buy a few pairs of maternity pants, but she refused to buy tops, choosing instead to just raid Tim's wardrobe. He didn't mind – she looked cute in his shirts and he found it especially funny at work, to look at her and see his own name on her chest.

Al was still reading _The Great Gatsby_ out loud, few pages every night, but they hadn't started thinking about girl's names yet. They'd agreed that they'd ask to know the gender of the baby at the second ultrasound. But it turned out that Baby Riggins was exactly as stubborn and uncooperative as his or her parents. Throughout the procedure, the baby managed to move in such a way that made it impossible to tell.

The Saturday after the ultrasound, Al and Tim were having breakfast in the kitchen. Al was looking through brochures from different hospitals and talking about things like birth plans and birthing suites. Tim was eating cornflakes and hoping she wouldn't get too graphic and put him off his breakfast.

"You don't have to come in to the delivery room, you know." said Al.

"Like hell I don't. Where else am I going to be?"

"It's just, I know how you feel about hospitals."

"I think I can get over it for this. Just keep the clowns away," he said with a smile.

She grabbed his hand and put it on her belly, just in time for him to feel a sharp jab. He looked at her, eyes nearly as wide as his grin.

"That's amazing. It's weird....like getting contact from aliens or something," said Tim, knowing that in his excitement, he probably wasn't making sense.

"I know," smiled Al. "I've been able to feel movement for a couple of weeks, but it's only since yesterday that the kicks started to get sharp enough that you'd be able to feel them."

"You realize, I'm never going to be able to take my hand off your belly now," said Tim, pulling her out of her seat and into his lap so he could wrap his arms around her and press both hands tight against her bump.

She took the opportunity to kiss his neck. "I've never had any problem with you keeping your hands on me."

Tim enjoyed the moment, Al's warm breath on his neck and her curls tickling his face. He felt a few more jabs against his hands and tried to imagine what their baby would look like and would grow up to be like.

"Do you hear that?" asked Al.

Tim listened, then shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly!" said Al. "It's finally stopped raining."

Tim looked out the window and could see the sun for what felt like the first time in weeks. It had been one of the rainiest springs on record, a fact Al had complained about since it meant she didn't get to walk as much as she would have liked. She jumped out of his lap.

"Let's go for a walk before the weather changes its mind."

Hearing the W-word, George leapt up and began dancing around the kitchen. Bruno, however, remained on his side in his bed, his tail thumping against the floor. Al went over to the kitchen door, put on her shoes, and brought Tim his boots. While he was sliding them on, Al put on her green barn coat and started to clap her hands.

"C'mon, Bruno, we're going for a walk. Let's go."

The old dog rolled over and struggled to stand. His back legs wavered underneath him as he forced himself up from the floor. He was nearly standing when he yelped and collapsed, one leg splayed out at an unnatural angle. Al rushed over to him and gently eased him onto his side. She picked up his leg, which caused him to yelp and begin panting. She tried again, but any movement at all to the leg produced obvious pain.

Tim looked on helplessly as Al stood up. He saw sadness and fear on her face, then watched as those emotions were replaced by grim determination.

"Timmy, stay with him a minute, would you?" she asked as she brushed past him, her hand light and reassuring on his back.

He got down on the floor next to Bruno, rubbed the dog's ears and scratched his neck. George followed Al out of the room. Tim could hear her opening the garage door. She was gone for about five minutes before she returned with a blanket.

"Where's George?" asked Tim.

"I put him in the run outside. Here, we need to get Bruno onto this so it'll be easier to lift him."

Tim followed her instructions as they slowly and carefully managed to get the dog wrapped in the blanket. Al wanted to help carry him, but Tim insisted that he could handle it. Al held the dog's head, in case he snapped, but even in pain, Bruno was too good-natured to lash out. He whimpered and yelped as Tim scooped him up and stood carefully, trying not to jostle the dog unnecessarily.

Tim followed Al out of the house and headed for his truck but she stopped him and directed him toward to cottonwood tree that was on a small rise about 50 yards from their house. It was one of Al's favorite spots because they could sit on the low-slung Adirondack chairs and watch the sun set over their lake. He put Bruno down where Al told him to and looked at her, a bit confused.

"Al, aren't we going to take him to the vet?"

She shook her head. "His leg's broken and he's really suffering. I don't want him to suffer anymore."

Tim looked around and saw the shovel leaning against the tree and the rifle open on top of the chair.

"Al, honey, think about this for a minute."

"I have," she said quietly. "I used to spend the summers on my uncle's farm in Iowa. I've seen a few things like this before – horses, dogs. You think it's going to be any better for Bruno if we put him in the truck and bounce him around for a half hour to get to the vet, then haul him out and put him through the exam. Besides, he hates the vet."

"Yeah, but what if the vet can help him. They can fix a broken leg, can't they?"

Al shook her head. "A dog can't break a healthy bone just from standing up. There's something else wrong there, bone cancer maybe. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's not something that's a simple fix."

Tim watched as Al knelt next to Bruno, whispered to the dog and scratched his ears while he tried to lick her hand. She stood up, brushed tears from her eyes, and walked over to the chair, Tim following closely behind her. She picked up the rifle, loaded it, and snapped it shut. Tim put his hand on her arm.

"I'll do it," he said, not sure if he'd actually be able to.

She shook her head and walked past him. She put the muzzle of the gun to the back of Bruno's head and Tim had to close his eyes. He counted Mississipis in his head, the way Billy'd taught him to when he was a little kid who was afraid of thunderstorms. Seven Missisippis later, he heard the crack of the rifle and then snap of Al clearing the chamber and opening it. Before he could react, she'd replaced the rifle on the chair, picked up the shovel, and started digging near the dog's body.

Tim grabbed the shovel and eased it out of her hannds.

"He's my responsibility," she said.

"No, he's our responsibility. Sit down and let me do the rest," Tim put an arm around her and squeezed her tight.

Reluctantly, Al agreed and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and hide her hands in her face. Tim dug quickly, aiming to make the hold about as long as the dog and a few feet deep. The soil was clumpy and dark, but the rain had softened it so the digging was easier than he expected. Tim found that he couldn't look at the blanked-wrapped dog without feeling like he was going to cry, so he kept his eyes either on the shovel or on his wife.

When the hole was deep enough, he scrambled out of it and sat down next to Al.

"Did you want to, I don't know, say a few words or something?" he asked, taking her hand.

She shook her head. "George should see him though before we bury him. I'll go let him out."

Tim watched her pick up the rifle and walk toward the house until she disappeared around the side. About a minute later, a grey and silver streak was loping toward him. George came to him first, snuffled around at his face, then wandered over to Bruno. Tim wasn't sure what to expect, but his dog seemed to know what had happened. He sniffed Bruno's head, nudged him with his paw, and then backed away but stood nearby.

Al returned shortly thereafter with two bottles of beer. She handed them both to Tim and then pulled a bottle of juice from her pocket. Tim stood up, opened one of the beers and drained half of it. Then he and Al went over and eased Bruno over and into his grave. Tim looked at George and wondered if he'd be able to do what Al had done, if he'd be handling it with such sad calmness as she'd been able to. He didn't think he could.

He kissed the top of her head. "Billy was right about you."

"Why? What'd he say?"

"That you were tough as nails and twice as sharp." Tim picked up the shovel and began moving the dirt back into the hole. They were quiet for several minutes.

"Remember the first time you met Bruno?" asked Al as Tim shoveled on the last of the soil.

"Remember it? How could I forget? Not only did he nearly scare the piss out of me, it was the day I met you." He looked up at Al, who was smiling at him.

"C'mon, let's go for that walk now. The weather could still change its mind anytime," she said as she held out her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for bearing with me – this is going a bit more slowly and is going to end up a lot longer than I expected. I'd say the story is maybe only 25% done at this point. Hopefully, the longer length will be a good thing. :) Hope you're enjoying it.**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

When they got back to the house after their walk, it seemed empty and lonely without Bruno. Even George was subdued. Tim helped Al out of her coat and hung it up for her. He kicked off his boots and then looked around the kitchen.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked.

"Drink some Scotch and then take a nap," she said. "But that's not going to happen."

"Well, at least half of that's not going to happen," Tim agreed. "Want to finish reading _The Great Gatsby?_"

Al nodded and followed him into the living room. He sat down on the couch. She picked up the book from the coffee table and laid down, resting her head in his lap. Tim put his hand on her belly, hoping to feel some more kicking, and closed his eyes while she began reading. He listened intently to the sad ending, a funeral with almost no one in attendance and the narrator's musing on careless people. Tim looked down and saw that Al was on the last page.

_Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms out further....And one fine morning – _

_So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. _

"Well, that was cheery," said Tim wryly, running a hand through Al's curls.

Al gave him a thin half-smile.

"Do any of these literature books have happy endings?" asked Tim.

"Not really. Did you hate it?"

Tim shook his head. "No, it was a good story, complicated and sad, but interesting."

They were quiet for a few minutes, Tim slipping away into thought.

"What's wrong, Timmy?" asked Al softly. She put her hand on top of his and looked up at him, her forehead wrinkled with concern.

"I don't know. It just, that ending part, being drawn into the past. Do you believe that's true?"

"I think it depends what your past is. If, like Gatsby, you believe the great love of your life and your best days are behind you, then yeah, you are drawn back in a futile attempt to recreate the past. But if you don't believe that, then no. Point is, the choice is yours."

Tim nodded as he considered her words. They made a lot of sense. He took a deep breath and let it out as a slow, relieved sigh.

"Does this mean you don't want to name a boy Nick?"

"No, it's not that at all. I love the name Nick. Nicholas William works for me, as long as you still like it."

"I love it. We still need a girl's name though."

Tim looked around at all the books. "All these books, must be at least one girl's name that you like."

"I've been thinking about it for weeks, but haven't come up with any."

"Your grandmother, the Irish one you're always telling stories about? What was her name?"

"Maeve."

"That's real pretty. I can live with that. And your old last name makes a pretty good middle name. Maeve Collette. That okay with you?"

"Yeah. Gran would have liked that a lot. Wow, this was pretty painless," she said with a smile.

He smiled down at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Al sat up, turning around and folding her legs underneath her. She brushed the hair off his face, tucking it behind his ear, and then rubbed the back of his neck.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I'm just....I don't know....starting to get worried. Starting to wonder if I'll be able to do this. You know, I didn't exactly have the best role model for a father."

"No, but you did have a decent brother and you somehow managed to fill the gap, maybe partly with Jay and his family, maybe partly with football. You survived though and grew up into a good man. Don't you forget that."

Tim looked down, trying to get his emotions under control. _Damn it_, he thought, _she's the pregnant one, so why am I having the mood swings?_

"Sorry, Al, I guess it's just been a pretty shitty day."

She agreed with him and then leaned into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. "Want me to distract you?"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could make some popcorn and then go into the tv room and watch Terminator movies until our eyeballs fall out or our brains rot, whichever happen first."

"Tempting," he said, running a hand up and down her calf.

"Or maybe you have other ideas?"

He stood up and held out a hand to her. "Let's start with the Terminator and see where it goes from there."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

If the spring had been one of the rainiest on record, then the summer was on track to win the prize for hottest. It was humid, too, the kind of sticky heat that made you feel like you just wanted to live in the shower or the swimming pool.

Al kept the air conditioning in the house so low that Tim was glad that she took the responsibility for opening and paying the bills. He was sure he didn't want to know how high their electricity bills were. But he wanted her to be comfortable, something that was getting harder to achieve by the day.

The days that summer all ran together in a blur of heat and anticipation. Even though Billy kept telling him to enjoy the dwindling days of his pre-fatherhood life, Tim wished for nothing more than a fast forward button. Part of it was concern for Al, the desire to put an end to her discomfort, but it was more than that. Tim just really wanted to meet their baby.

Two weekends before Jason and Lyla's wedding, Al and Mindy went to Austin to visit Tyra and shop for Lyla's wedding. Al had wanted to leave it as late as possible so she'd be able to buy something that would fit on the day. Even though she hated shopping even more than Tim did, she was looking forward to spending time with her cousins and having a change of scenery.

Tim spent the weekend with Billy, helping him babysit the kids. Amber and TJ were at an age where they could pretty much entertain themselves and all they really needed was a referee to break up their occasional flights. Tim took them and George to the park, where the children had great fun chasing the dog.

The younger kids were a bit more challenging. Jack was a typical toddler, always in motion. And Cody, well, Tim had to admit that even though he had more experience with babies, Cody still scared him.

Late Saturday night, after the kids were all in bed, Tim and Billy sat on the front step, drinking beer, the door open behind them so they could hear any trouble.

"So, Little Brother, I hope this weekend isn't causing you to regret your decision to have a kid."

"No regrets," said Tim with a smile as he looked up at the cloudless, the stars visible, though not as many as he could see from his own yard.

They were quiet for several minutes, the air still heavy and humid even though the sun was gone.

"You're going to be fine." Billy's voice was so soft, that Tim was barely able to hear him over the crickets and cicadas.

"Thanks, Billy. I'm just.....I don't know. Babies are scary. How can you trust a creature that can't even support its own head?"

Billy shrugged. "Babies are pretty easy. They don't move. Their needs are simple – they're either hungry, tired, or need to be changed. After awhile, you get so used to holding them and being careful, that it just becomes like a habit or a reflex."

"I'm just terrified of screwing up," said Tim.

Billy took a long pull of his beer and looked sideways at his brother. "You don't remember the first time I took you to the park, do you?"

Tim's lower lip bunched as he considered the question, then he shook his head.

"Mom and Dad were fighting and I just had to get out of the house. But when I tried to leave, you were right behind me. So I decided we'd go to the park. I probably had no business taking you. I wasn't all that much older than Amber is now and I sure as hell wouldn't let her go to the park by herself, let alone take Jack with her."

Billy looked down and tore at the corner of the beer label before continuing.

"You loved the slide and you wanted me to catch you at the bottom. So I'd stand behind you as you went up the steps, wait for you to sit down, then run around to the front to catch you. The first few times, it was all fine.

But then, I don't know what happened exactly. You were only about two and your balance wasn't great. All I know is that I got around to the front of the slide just in time to see you fall backwards off the ladder. Jesus, Timmy, it was damn scary and it felt like it took a lifetime to get back to you, even though it wasn't but a few seconds.

You were fine, laughing in fact. You thought it was hilarious. The surface was rubbery and cushioned with chopped up recycled tires or something, so it's not like you fell on concrete or anything. But I was still worried that maybe you'd hit your head."

"But I was okay?"

"You were, only when I checked you over for bruises or injuries, it felt like part of the back of your head was flat. And I couldn't remember if it had always been flat or if you'd just flattened your head. I spent the next few days terrified that Mom or Dad would notice there was something wrong with you. Or that you'd suddenly keel over or something."

"You didn't tell them what happened?"

"I didn't tell anyone what happened. Til now."

"I'm fine, Billy. I don't think you messed me up for life or anything." Tim elbowed his brother in the ribs, hoping to erase the sad, guilty look on his face.

Billy punched Tim playfully in the arm.

"Damn, Billy, you're losing your touch. My wife hits harder than that," said Tim with a grin.

"I'm just trying to take it easy on you. We still gotta get through most of tomorrow before the girls get back."

Tim finished his beer and got up to get a few more from the house. When he returned, the brothers lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Maybe Billy was right, maybe he would be fine. And at least he'd always have his big brother to turn to for advice. If Billy could manage having kids, there was hope for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Since Jason's recruiting job kept him busy on the weekends, he and Lyla decided to have their wedding on a Wednesday near the end of August. Lyla planned a simple church ceremony for the morning, then time for picturing taking and relaxing before the black-tie reception at Buddy's country club in the evening. Tim hadn't been inside the country club since that embarrassing dinner with the McCoys in high school. He hated the place, truth be told, but he'd do anything for Six.

Ever since Tim and Al had moved into their house, Jason had been living in Al's old house with Noah and Lyla, when she was home from med school. Tim agreed to spend the night before the wedding at the old house with Jason. It felt a bit strange to be there, in the place where so much of his early relationship with Al had happened. But it also felt right to be with Six, hanging out like they were twelve-year olds on a sleepover.

Tim even slept on the floor in Jason's room, just like they always used to. Jason had encouraged him to use Noah's room, since the boy was with Jay's parents for the night, but Tim had insisted. He didn't think either one of them slept very well, and they were up and moving around well before the alarm went off.

"You are going to blow-dry your hair, right? Lyla specifically asked me to ask you," said Jason as he got dressed.

Tim yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, Six. And I think you mean that Lyla _told_ you to _tell _me. In fact, I bet she even demanded, just a little bit."

"I'm just trying to be polite about it, Timmy."

Tim stumbled off to have his shower, blow-dry his hair, and get dressed. Forty-five minutes later, they were ready to go but the wedding wasn't for another two hours.

"C'mon, Six. Let's go for a drive. I want to show you something."

"So help me, Riggins, if we're late...."

Tim sighed and held the front door open. "We're not going to be late. I promise."

Minutes later, they were headed down the road in Tim's truck, which had been specially washed and waxed just for this big occasion. Jason had his arm out the window and was watching the familiar scenery pass by. Even though the day was early, it was already hot and Tim knew that by noon, it would be downright oppressive.

Tim took the long way around so they approached the ranch from the far side of his and Al's house. They'd had another road put in that went from the main road, curved through a small forest of trees, and cut across the Jason's plot of land before splitting off with one path heading down to the lake while the other continued on to Al and Tim's house. Tim turned onto the new road, casting a sideways glance at Six, who looked confused.

"This is by your place, Timmy, but this isn't your road, is it?"

"Nope," agreed Tim, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. He took the turnoff for the lake and pulled up next to the boat dock.

"What's going on, Timmy? Is this where you leave me for dead or something?" asked Jay, fiddling with his cuff links as he looked around.

"Not hardly," said Tim as he leaned over to open the glove compartment. He took out a roll of papers that were wrapped with a ribbon and handed it to his friend.

Jay looked at Tim with a raised eyebrow, then eased the ribbon off and unrolled the papers to examine them: some architectural drawings, a map, and a deed.

"Remember when I showed you my present from Al, at our wedding, and you asked me what the pink plot was for?"

"Yeah, you said Al had some sort of girly plans for it."

"Well, I lied. It's yours, Six. Yours and Lyla's. You can do whatever you want with it, but what we're really hoping is you'll build a house here, be our neighbors."

Jason flipped through the pages, shaking his head slowly. "No....c'mon Timmy, if y'all wanted neighbors, you wouldn't have moved to the middle of nowhere."

"Six, we moved to the middle of nowhere because we like it here. Does get lonely though and it'd be nice to have some company."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Those plans are just something Al's brother did up – he's happy to make changes or you can hire your own architect. We can give you the name of a decent builder too – didn't rip us off too bad and finished the place mostly on time. Al said we have to register the deed or some such thing, but, as far as we 're concerned, this is all yours.

Jason was silent for several minutes, looking from the drawings to the lake and the woods, then back at the drawings. Tim avoided his eyes, not wanting to get overly emotional before they even got to the damn wedding.

"Thanks....this is really.....it's going to be perfect."

Tim nodded. He considered it one of the miracles of his life that Six was still his best friend, that he'd forgiven Tim for everything. That Jason had moved back to Dillon was an unexpected bonus, yet also, somehow, the way things were supposed to be.

Jason reached over and squeezed Tim's hand tightly, then dropped it. They still didn't look at each other, but they didn't have to know the other's thoughts. Tim took a deep breath and started the truck.

"OK with you if I make a quick stop at home?"

Jason looked at his watch. "Yeah, we're still a little ahead of schedule."

Tim smiled and drove quickly, pulling up in front of his house about thirty seconds later.

"I'll wait here, obviously," said Jason with a smile as Tim climbed out of the truck.

Tim called Al's name as he opened the front door, but he doubted she could hear him over the sound of the blow dryer. He followed the noise back to their room, where he found her blow drying her hair in front of the mirror by her dresser. She was wearing one of his shirts, and not much else from the looks of it. When she caught sight of him in the mirror, she turned off the blow dryer and put it down, seeming surprised but happy.

He came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist before she could turn around. He rested his chin on her head and enjoyed the view down her top. She'd always been reasonably, proportionately curvy but this whole pregnancy thing just exaggerated everything, in a good way.

"You're beautiful, you know that, right?" he whispered in her ear, his voice the throaty growl that always drove her crazy.

She looked for a minute like she might argue with him. Instead, she broke out into a huge grin while her eyes teared up. "I'm hormonal and emotional is what I am."

"Mmm, just the way I like my gals." He kissed her neck, smiling as she relaxed against him.

She laughed and reached a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek and then running her fingers through his hair.

"How about I help you get dressed?" he said, unbuttoning her shirt while he continued to kiss her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her jawline.

"Timmy, this doesn't look like getting dressed to me. It looks remarkably like getting undressed, in fact."

"Well, you have to do one before you can do the other, else you'd look pretty silly," he drawled.

"Billy's going to be here soon," she protested, but didn't pull away. Tim was grateful that Billy had agreed to be Al's date for the wedding and the first part of the reception, until Tim had completed his official duties as Best Man.

"We got plenty of time, Al." Tim was about to ease off her shirt when he heard several long, sharp blasts from his truck's horn. He groaned, stepped away from her and picked up her blue and white sundress from the bed.

"Jason's waiting for you?"

"Yeah," Tim mumbled, helping her into her dress. Even though the zipper was within easy reach for her, on the side, he still zipped it up for her. He kissed her sweetly and then leaned down and kissed her bump. "Love you both."

"And we love you...you know, you seem to be saying that a lot more recently. Not that I'm complaining, I like hearing it, but I was just curious."

He took her hand but kept his eyes down. They'd been married for three years, together for two years before that, but somehow, she still had a way of pushing him right to the edge of his comfort zone. It was hard to share his feelings, to open up his heart that bit wider and let her in further. He felt so closely entwined with Al, it scared him. If anything ever happened to her, he didn't know how he'd be able to survive it. To love someone that much was terrifying, which had been the reason he didn't say it so much.

But he didn't let her in on the whole background. Instead, he cut right to the simple chase. "Well, you know, wasn't something I heard a lot when I was a kid. So I guess....I'm practicing. I want our kid to have a different life."

Al put her free hand on his cheek. "Our kid is going to have a good life. I promise. Now, you better go before Jay comes in here and drags you out himself.

She pulled him down for a kiss then gave him a gentle push. "Go. We'll see you at the wedding."

Tim backed out of the room, wanting to savor the view for as long as he could. He was honored, thrilled, to be Six's Best Man, but at that very moment, he would have preferred to just be able to stay with his wife.

He had the truck in gear and moving before his seatbelt was completely fastened. Jason took one look at his flushed cheeks and shook his head.

"Jesus, Riggs, it's my wedding day and you're going to make me late because you couldn't wait for tonight to be with your wife."

Tim shrugged and grinned lazily. "Well, you know....." He let the sentence trail off. Six knew everything about him, could probably predict what he was going to do next down to the second. It was comforting to be with someone who knew you so well. Tim counted himself as lucky that he had not one, but two people, like that in his life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for your patience and for hanging in there with this story. I know it's a bit slow and I can see now it's more like a two-part story. So we're still in the first part. **

**And I know, something major (like the accident mentioned in the summary) probably should have happened by now, but I do these things to practice plotting and I'm still finding my feet. Plus, I really love these characters and it kills me to make bad things happen to them. (I know, then I need to stop writing angst, right? But angst is interesting and has all sorts of character development implications.)**

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By the time the evening reception rolled around, Tim was ready to be done with the wedding. The ceremony was fine, the first hour of taking pictures was fine, the next three hours of taking pictures was progressively less fine, and the final straw was the couple of hours spent with Jason and Lyla's extended families before the reception. It was like a never-ending cocktail party, requiring lots of polite small talk and not nearly enough alcohol to make it bearable.

It would have been better if Al had come along, but she politely turned down Lyla's invitation. She didn't want to spend any more time dressed up and chatting with strangers than absolutely necessary.

When the bridal party arrived at the country club, the pre-dinner drinks reception was in full swing in the front room. Tim excused himself from Lyla's sister Tabby, the maid of honor, and wound his way through the room, searching for Al. He found her on the edge of the party, standing next to an open window, with Herc and Billy. She looked up and smiled as she watched him take in her dress, which was black, had a loose, flowing skirt, and showed off a good bit of cleavage.

When he took her hand and kissed her cheek, her skin felt unbearably warm.

"Are you okay? You feel like you're burning up." He couldn't help the concern, even though he knew it would cause Herc to roll his eyes and make smart-ass remarks.

"I'm fine, Timmy. It's just hot and crowded in here. It'll be better when we move into the dining room."

"Really, Al, I think you should sit down."

"Timmy, I'm pregnant, not crippled....no offense, Herc."

"Hey, none taken," said Herc with a wave of his hand. "You can sit down right here."

"Ha. Funny, but I haven't had all my shots yet. Who knows what I could catch from you," said Al.

"The only thing a lady ever catches from me is a good time, I assure you."

Al slipped her arm around Tim's waist. Tim rubbed her back and appreciated her dress some more, especially since the low-cut back gave him plenty of bare skin.

"So, Al, just how pregnant are you now? 10 months? I'm telling you, girl, you look ready to pop," said Herc.

"Wow. I didn't know you could count to 10. Congratulations." Al rolled her eyes.

"I heard it really hurts, and that's when the woman isn't some teeny tiny little -"

"That's enough, Herc," said Tim through clenched teeth.

"I'm only messin' with her, she knows that, don't you, Al?" asked Herc, turning on his smarmiest smile.

"Kids, enough," said Billy. "I haven't had enough beer yet to listen to that sort of sniping."

Billy was spared any more squabbling as the white-coated waiters moved through the room, ushering the guests into the dining room. Tim walked with Al to her assigned seat and pulled out her chair for her, helping her get settled at the table. Lyla had put Al and Billy at Buddy's table, between Principal Taylor and Buddy's girlfriend, a big-haired blonde woman who wore way too much make-up and had a laugh that sounded like breaking glass.

Tim was about to walk away when Al grabbed his tie and pulled him down so he was eye-to-eye with her.

"You can do this, Timmy. I know you can."

He smiled. She'd helped him with the speech by finding examples online and giving him a formula to follow, but he'd written it himself. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and resisted the urge to tousle her hair.

Tim greeted Coach and his wife, said good-bye to Billy and then took his place at the head table, between Jason and Buddy Junior. The dinner seemed interminably long. The food may have been good, but Tim could barely taste it. He listened as Buddy Junior babbled about European soccer. Tim tried to nod in the right places, but mostly he just let the words wash over him.

Al's table was maybe forty feet away and Tim had a good view of her. She seemed to be having a great time, alternating between talking to Tami and Billy. Tim knew he was going to owe Billy big-time for sitting through a wedding, dressed up in his best suit. It was worth it though, knowing that Al had had someone to keep her company all day and look after her.

Finally, it was time for the speeches. Buddy went first, but Tim barely heard him. He did hear all the laughs Buddy was getting, which just increased his anxiety level. Jason's dad gave a short speech, then Jason, and finally, it was the moment Tim had been dreading ever since Six had asked him to be his Best Man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and then stood up, taking the microphone from Jason. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his speech, short enough to fit on a single sheet of paper. Tim took a deep breath and looked at Al, who was smiling encouragingly and mouthing something that looked like "you can do this."

"Evening....as Best Man, it's my job to say a few words about the groom, Jay Six, and his lovely bride, Garrity," said Tim, pausing to look up at Al, who had grabbed Billy's hand and put it on her belly. Tim smiled to himself, knowing that the baby was kicking and that Al was very particular about who touched her. She really had accepted Billy as her eighth brother.

"If you've ever been to a Panther roast, then you know that public speakin' isn't really my thing. So the fact that Six and Lyla have entrusted me with this responsibility, well, it means a lot to me and I don't want to let them down.

"I guess I'm supposed to tell y'all how we met, but, being as how this is Dillon, y'all already know that. In fact, you probably know most of our stories, which is good, that'll make this speech way shorter."

Tim grinned as people laughed and thought for the first time that Al was right, he could do this.

"Truth is, I can't remember a time when I didn't know Jay. And I also can't remember a time when Jay didn't like Lyla. Even in first grade, when it was definitely not cool to like girls, being as how they were the prime carriers of cooties and whatnot, Six still had a place in his heart for Garrity. He's the only kid I've ever known who would give up his chocolate milk for a girl and if that's not love when you're six years old, then I don't know what is.

"Few people in life get thrown the curveball that came Six's way and I don't know anyone would could have handled it with the grace and strength that Jay has. Knocked it out of the park would be an understatement." He paused to look at his best friend, who was looking down with blushing cheeks.

"My wife's grandmother used to say that even the twistiest road will get you where you're going, eventually. And it was a twisty road that brought Six and Garrity through high school and out into the world, on separate paths. But eventually, they came back here and came back together. And now....now they'll be the way they were meant to be: married and together for the rest of their lives." Tim took a small step sideways so he could see both Jason and Lyla as he finished his speech.

"Here's the part where I'm supposed to give you some advice on being married. Truth is, the best advice is to pick the right one, so you're both in good shape there. As long as you have each other, then everything else will fall into place.

"Best of luck. To Six and Lyla." Tim raised his glass, the rest of the room following suit and just like that, the speech was over and he could enjoy the rest of the evening.

After the speeches, the focus shifted to the dance floor at the back of the room, where the band was setting up. Jay reached over and shook his hand.

"Thanks, man, that was perfect. You're dismissed now, go spend the rest of the evening with your lovely wife."

"Thanks, Six. You too," replied Tim with a smile.

Tim went over to Buddy's table, but Al was gone, so he sat in her seat. He looked a question at Billy.

"She's seven and a half months pregnant. Where do you think she is?" asked Billy.

Tim looked down and smiled. Al had three complaints about being pregnant. One, she had to go to the bathroom every five minutes. Two, she couldn't sleep on her stomach. And three, the baby loved to hook his little toes into her ribs, which was apparently damn uncomfortable.

"Thanks for this, Billy I've been released, pretty much, so you can go anytime."

"No problem," said Billy as he stood up, clapping Tim on the back. "You guys going to be in late tomorrow?"

Tim groaned. He'd forgotten that tomorrow was a "school day," as Al liked to call them.

"I'm just messing," grinned Billy. "Take the day off. It's going to be light one and I've got D'Andre coming in anyway."

Tim remembered that Al had recommended D'Andre, a graduate of the garage's internship program, to cover for her while she was on maternity leave.

"Thanks, Billy. And thanks for today."

"No problem, Little Brother. Now, I better get back to Mindy before she starts to think I'm having a good time or something."

Tim chatted with Coach and Mrs. Taylor while he waited for Al to return from the bathroom. The first dance came and went with no sign of her. Tim was starting to get worried and was about to send Mrs. Taylor on a search mission when Al finally arrived. The Taylors excused themselves to dance and Tim pulled Al into his lap.

"Sorry, I got cornered by Lyla's stepfather, who wanted to talk to me about a tremendous business opportunity – something about conversion kits that can make cars run on used cooking oil."

"For real?"

"Yeah for real. Like that's gonna fly in West Texas." Al laughed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Billy gave us the day off tomorrow."

"Good. I want to go to Midland and look for a replacement for my truck."

"Not a minivan. Anything but a minivan."

"No, I was thinking about a station wagon. A nice boxy Volvo. Hey, does anyone still make 'em with wood-paneled sides?" she teased.

"I hope not. You feel up to dancing?"

"Actually, I feel like stepping outside and getting a bit of air." Al slipped off his lap and held out her hand.

"A bit of air sounds good to me," he said, letting her lead the way out. A bit of air, a bit of space, a bit of peace, all those things sounded good to him right then.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

A week and a half after Jason and Lyla's wedding, Billy and Tim were sitting in the office, drinking beer. It was Friday, after all.

"So, Al's picking up her new car?" asked Billy.

Tim nodded.

"And what is it, again? A Saab or something yuppie like that?"

"It's a VW....a Passat station wagon. You know, we gotta have room for George too."

"Right. A Passat. So tell me, does this mean you have to start going to yoga classes and eating organic food?"

"Shut up, Billy. Least it's not a minivan."

"I've got four kids, what the hell else am I going to drive?"

"The Passat's not bad. Best thing about it is you can set the position of the seat and mirrors and program the key to remember it, then when you unlock the car, it knows which key you used and the seats and mirrors automatically move to where you need them."

"OK, see, that right there is worth buying a car like that."

"No kidding. You know I couldn't even get in the car after she test-drove it, the seat was so close to the steering wheel?"

"I'm surprised she can see over the wheel.....Hey, should you be drinking beer before baby school?" Billy finished his beer and opened another.

"Probably not. I know this is important to Al, and the stuff about the actual birth is good, but the rest of it....just seems too far off to worry about. All I care about right now is getting that baby out safe – we can figure the rest out later."

"Yeah. I'm so glad Mindy never went in for that stuff."

"We even had homework this week."

Billy snickered. "You get a rally girl to do it for you?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "We were supposed to sit down and talk about family traditions and rituals that were important to us and then discuss how we were going to combine these into our new family."

"I bet that was a short conversation on your side."

"No kidding. Good thing Al's crazy family has enough traditions for a couple of families."

Billy put his feet up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. "You getting excited?"

"More like terrified." Tim shook his hair out of his face and put his feet up on the desk.

"Just stay away from the business end of things and don't try to tell her to calm down. You'll be fine."

Tim grinned. "You know Stephen passed out when Avery was born?"

"Is it just me, or does Stephen sound like a major league weenie?"

"Completely. But she loved him."

"Yeah, and now she loves you. I seriously gotta worry about the girl's standards and sanity."

Tim kicked Billy's feet. "Thanks a lot."

"So, she going to go for the drugs or try to tough it out?"

"This is Al, what do you think?" asked Tim with a smile.

"No drugs. Too bad, that epidural thing seems to be like magic. So, she tell you what you're supposed to do through all this? She come up with one of those.....whatchacallits? Birth plans?"

"Yeah....mostly. She wants me to keep her hair off her face, make sure none of the nurses call her 'Mom' or 'Mama' and she wants to squeeze my hand."

"Damn, you're going to have broken bones for sure. Look, Timmy, just treat it like a hostage situation. Do everything she says and you'll get through it alive."

"Nice, Billy, real nice. Inspiring advice."

Billy shrugged. "Just don't panic, Timmy. That shit's contagious. And you're going to feel completely helpless and be scared out of your mind, but you can't let her see that."

Tim nodded and then finished his beer. He was mentally debating having a second one when the office door swung open.

"Nice to see you guys are working hard," said Mindy as Amber and TJ ran into the office and greeted their father and uncle.

"How's school?" asked Tim, since they'd just started first grade that week.

"Great," said Amber. "I have the nicest teacher and my best friend Sarah's in my class and we sit next to each other."

TJ scowled. "We gotta sit still....a lot. I don't like it."

"What's up with this unexpected surprise?" asked Billy, who was now sitting up and trying to look business-like.

"Mommy got your birthday present," giggled Amber.

"Is that so?" asked Billy. "You going to tell me what it is, Amby, or do I have to tickle it out of you?"

"I'll tell you myself. If you got plans for the 16th through the 18th, you better cancel 'em because we're going go be at the Embassy Suites in Midland _and_ going to see the Monster Truck rally," said Mindy.

"Seriously?" The thousand-watt grin on Billy's face was priceless.

Mindy nodded.

"You need me and Al to watch the kids?" asked Tim.

"No way, Timmy. I got Celia to do it. You two don't want to spend one of your last baby-free weekends babysitting," said Mindy, who was now sitting in Billy's lap.

"Hey, kidders, who wants to go to the waiting room and feed the fish?" asked Tim as he stood up.

Both kids rushed out the door toward the waiting room. Tim winked at his brother and left the office, closing the door behind him. When he caught up with the kids just outside the waiting room, they were talking to Al.

"A girl would just be really nice. I'm sick of boys," said Amber.

"I know, but it's not like ordering something on the Internet. I can't just check the box that says 'girl'," said Al, smiling as she saw Tim approaching.

"Mommy says she's done – no more babies are going to come out of her belly, so you really need to have a girl. It's the closest I'll get to having a sister," pleaded Amber.

Tim looked at Al with wide, surprised eyes as he tried not to laugh. "We're going to feed the fish. Want to come?"

"I want to sit down on that couch in there and maybe never move again," she replied.

TJ pulled open the door and held it open while they all walked in. Amber and TJ each had a turn feeding the fish, which involved Tim picking them up and holding them while they dropped brightly colored flakes into the tank. Then the kids stood there and watched the fish while Tim joined Al on the couch. He put his arm around her and smiled, feeling content.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Two weeks before the baby was due, a crashing sound woke Tim up around 6 am. He rolled over to see if it had also woken Al, but the bed was empty. A little alarmed, he jumped out of bed and went to investigate.

He found Al in the kitchen, looking down at the floor, which was now littered with baking trays, pie tins, and cake pans.

"Sorry, Timmy. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just organizing the cupboards and I got a little clumsy and knocked all this mess onto the floor."

Tim scratched his head as he yawned. "Let me get those for you."

He picked the pans off the floor and put them in the cupboard. Then he looked around. The kitchen was spotless, even the windows were gleaming.

"How long have you been awake?"

Al shrugged. "I don't know, maybe three hours."

Tim put one hand on her belly and rubbed her back with the other, as Al leaned into him. "You having those not-labor contractions, whatever they're called?"

"Actually, Timmy, I think this might be the real deal."

"Seriously? But your due date is still a couple of weeks away." If Tim had been half-asleep before, this news had completely woken him up.

"I'm about 38 weeks. Anything can happen after 37 and still be considered pretty much full-term."

"Should we go to the hospital now?" Tim's mind raced as he thought about all stuff they needed to do. They hadn't even packed her bag yet.

Al laughed. "No, we've got awhile yet. I don't want to go until the last possible minute. You spend too much time in the hospital and they get to wanting to do all sorts of medical things to you – shoot you full of drugs and 'intervene'."

"I thought that was the whole point of picking this hospital, that it has that special birthing center" Tim had struggled to understand Al's decision to deliver at the hospital that was 20 miles away instead of the one in Dillon.

"Yeah, it's a birth center, but it's still attached to a hospital and they can transfer you to the hospital part. And I really don't want that."

"OK then, so what do we do?" asked Tim, remembering Billy's advice to just do whatever Al said.

"You go get dressed. I'm going to make some pancakes," Al said as she stepped back and gave him a gentle shove.

"I can make them. You should probably sit down." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were a mistake.

Al sighed. "It's going to be a long day if you play it like that, you know?"

Tim was about to reply when Al suddenly breathed sharply, her hands going to her bump. Tim looked at her with wide eyes.

"Just a little contraction, Timmy. I'm fine. Next one will probably be in about ten minutes or so," she said, looking at the clock.

Tim felt like he was going against every instinct he had as he forced himself to relax. "OK, I'll get dressed and get the stopwatch."

"You bought a stopwatch?" Al giggled.

Tim shrugged and looked a little sheepish. "Yeah. I figure I can use it to time the kid in the 40 later."

"Wow, Timmy, it's not like you to think that far ahead. You really are becoming a father." Al smiled and turned away to begin preparing the pancakes.

After Tim had gotten dressed and found the stopwatch, he returned to the kitchen to find Al putting two plates of pancakes on the table. He sat down and smiled at her.

"Oh, I texted Coach to let him know I wouldn't be able to golf with him today. He texted back and said that he hoped you were well and that the little fullback or kicker was born healthy."

Al grinned. "I'm going to call Charlie later. Even though New York is two hours ahead of us, it's still too early. God only knows what he got up to last night."

Tim was looking forward to seeing Charlie, who was planning to visit after the baby was born. He was Al's favorite brother, the one who was only ten months older than her, and he was always good for funny stories about Al when she was growing up.

"Yeah, Billy's in Midland for his birthday this weekend, but I was going to call him soon-ish."

"Leave it 'til after the baby's born. I don't want to interrupt their weekend and knowing Billy, he'd probably come back here."

"You think so?" asked Tim.

"I know it. He'd do anything for you."

After breakfast, they got Al's bag packed and prepared the Passat. Tim found it hard to believe that soon, they would be strapping their baby into the car seat in the backseat.

When they were done with the preparations, Al wanted to play Scrabble and Tim reluctantly agreed. He understood that she wanted to keep her mind occupied, but he was hardly a challenge to her, even when she spotted him 50 points and didn't challenge his obviously made-up words.

It took them nearly three hours to play the game, since Tim was slow and Al had to pause to let the contractions pass. Al ended up winning by 150 points.

"Thank, Timmy, I know that's not your favorite game," said Al as she picked up the tiles off the board and dropped them in a scarlet drawstring bag.

"It's okay," said Tim "I really didn't mind that much. I wouldn't want to play you every day though. That would get depressing."

"Or maybe you'd get better at it. You're not dumb."

Tim shrugged and finished packing the game back into its box. He returned it to the high shelf in the linen closet.

"Let's take George for a walk," said Al as she stood up.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'd like that. Poor dog's whole world is going to change soon. Where do you want to go?" Tim looked down at his dog, who had been sleeping but perked up when he heard his name and his favorite word.

"I'd like to walk out to the cabin, but we should probably stay closer to home. I'm going to need access to the bathroom. I am so looking forward to not having to pee every five minutes," said Al.

Outside, they headed up the new road toward where Jason and Lyla would build their house. Six had told Tim that they were going to start construction soon, the builder had had a project fall through, and it looked like they could be in the new house by Christmas.

Al stopped suddenly and Tim could tell that she'd just had another contraction. They were closer together and getting stronger and longer, but she was still insisting it was too soon to go to the hospital.

"Distract me," she said, when she was able to speak again.

"OK.....All Time Fantasy Football Dream Team, starting offense. Go," he told her with a smile. They often played variations of this game, her favorite being Fantasy Hockey, but Tim was at a severe disadvantage in that sport.

"Dan Marino."

"He's just a pretty boy," scoffed Tim.

"Over 60,000 yards career passing says otherwise."

"Yeah, but no Superbowl rings."

"OK, then who's your pick?"

"I'm torn between Peyton Manning and John Elway."

Al breathed a fake sigh of relief. "For a minute, I thought you were going to go for Brett Favre just to wind me up."

"Nah, Minnesota, I know better than that."

They reached the lake and Al stopped to look longingly at the water.

"I'd really like to go for a swim," she said.

Tim held his breath, unsure of how he'd talk her out of that one if her mind was really made up.

"Relax, Timmy. I know it's not a good idea. I'm not stupid, just a bit stubborn."

"A bit?" Tim tilted his head to the side and raised one eyebrow.

"A teeny tiny bit." Al grinned.

They turned back and walked home, talking Fantasy Football all the way. The day was comfortably warm and Tim was enjoying this time with Al more than he expected. She was relaxed and comfortable and just seemed to know what she was about.

When they got home, she wanted to sit under the cottonwood tree, which they did until the contractions were four minutes apart and Al was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. Tim put George in the outside run with some water and called Lauren to ask her to feed the dog in the evening and morning. Then he helped Al into the car and headed for the hospital, trying not to break too many traffic laws on the way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Al's water had broken, the contractions were about two minutes apart, and Al was somewhere else inside her head. She grabbed his hand and squeezed during every contraction, which was about as much communicating as she could handle.

Tim supposed he should be surprised that her labor had gone from predictably regular to super-progressed in a relatively short period of time, but the one thing he did manage to learn in baby school was that every woman and every labor is different. At the hospital, he careened into the parking lot and screeched up to the Emergency Room entrance.

"Park the car," she managed to choke out.

"Al, I'll drop you off and then park that car." He tried to keep his voice reasonable and steady, hoping that she wouldn't argue with him.

"Don't leave me alone." Her normally husky voice was even deeper and Tim could see a bit of fear in her eyes.

"OK. Worst case, I carry you across the parking lot. Deal?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand, even tighter than the last time. He threw the car into gear and headed for the parking lot, relieved to see an open spot near the door. He had to do an asshole move, accelerating and stealing the spot from an old guy, but he didn't care. The old guy, when he saw the state of Al, didn't care either.

Tim helped her out of the car, put his arm around her and half-carried her into the hospital. Once inside, she consented to sitting in a wheelchair, which was a clue that she was really struggling. He wheeled her up to the information desk, where a pretty blonde girl about his age was sitting.

"Tim Riggins!" she said.

Tim groaned inwardly. He knew he should know who she was, knew he probably _knew_ her at one point, but, for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

He pulled out his most charming smile and hoped for the best. "Hi, I think we need to go to the birth center."

The girl suddenly seemed to realize that there was a Mrs. Riggins in the picture. Her smile dropped in brightness by half as she directed them to take the elevator to the fourth floor and someone would assist them there.

"That one too?" asked Al. Even though she struggling to speak, he could hear some amusement in her voice. At their wedding, she'd had great fun in the receiving line, guessing after each girl came past just how well he knew her. She was scarily on target and he'd had to ask her secret. She'd laughed and nodded at Tyra. "I just watch Tyra's face. It tells me everything I need to know. That girl forgets _nothing_."

When the elevator doors opened, Tim barged right in without waiting to see if anyone was exiting.

"Hey, watch out...Tim?" said a familiar voice.

"Lyla?" Tim tried to make sense of what he was seeing, Lyla standing inside the elevator, wearing a white lab coat. He hit the button for the fourth floor, then realized that he probably should have let Garrity get off the elevator first. If Lyla was uncomfortable or in a hurry, she didn't let on.

"Yeah, I'm an ER rotation. For med school, you know?"

Tim nodded and watched the numbers at the top of the elevator light up. 2....3.....

"Good luck, Al. I hope everything goes well for you."

Tim thanked Lyla, relieved to hear the bell ring as the doors opened. He pushed Al out of the elevator and tried to remember where he was supposed to go and what he was supposed to do. They'd had a tour of the place as part of baby school, but he found he was too nervous to think clearly. He looked both ways and saw a desk a little ways to the right, so he took Al over there.

He could barely focus as the desk attendant asked questions and then led them to a room up the hall. It was a weird mixture between a hotel room and a hospital room. At least it didn't smell like disinfectant. A nurse soon arrived and helped Al into bed while Tim put her I-Pod in the stereo dock, found her specially-made Birth playlist and set it on shuffle. Then he pulled up a stool, adjusted the height so he could be at eye-level with Al, and took her hand.

She gave him a weak smile. The first song the I-Pod picked was Pearl Jam's "Wishlist", one of her favorites.

"I wish this was over," she said.

"You're doing great. Really." He pushed her hair back from her face.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but a contraction took the words from her. Tim found himself nearly holding his breath and was relieved that she'd specifically told him that she didn't want him breathing at her or coaching her like some sitcom dad-to-be. (_Stephen kept doing that and it made me want to seriously punch him in the face. In fact, I might've even taken a swing. It's all a bit fuzzy now._)

Time started to do funny things, expanding and contracting, losing all meaning. He'd look at the clock and find only five minutes had passed. But the next time he looked, it was an hour later, even though it had felt shorter than five minutes. Various health care professionals appeared and did different things, but it was all just a blur to him. He was barely aware of anything but his wife. He didn't talk much, somehow knowing that her preference was for him to quietly be there for her. His hand was nearly numb from all the squeezing and he was pretty sure it'd be bruised the next day, but he didn't care.

Tim didn't even realize that the doctor had arrived until he spoke.

"OK, Mama, you ready to start really pushing?"

Al's eyes flashed in annoyance and Tim remembered her request.

"Sorry, sir, but this is going to go a whole lot better for everyone if you'd just call her Al. Please."

The doctor nodded and then got down to business, giving brusque instructions to Al and the nurses. It seriously felt like an eternity passed before the doctor announced that he had the head and asked Al to stop pushing for a minute while he checked for the umbilical cord. Al looked up at Tim, panting and sweating worse than he ever had, even after running an hour of bleachers. He leaned his head closer to hers and whispered that she was nearly finished. She squeezed his hand gently.

The doctor was ready to continue and, a few more pushes later, Tim was officially someone's father. He felt dizzy from the excitement and the relief that came when he heard the baby crying. He kissed Al's forehead and then looked up at the doctor, who quickly toweled the baby off and then laid it on Al's chest. Tim put his hand on his baby's back, the skin feeling impossibly soft under his calloused hand. He ran his hand up to the baby's head, feeling the fine hair, admiring the headful of dark blonde curls.

"Who is it?" Al asked, her voice hoarse.

He understood that she was asking whether they had a son or a daughter. He gently shifted the baby to check.

"Nicky. This is Nicky."

The doctor interrupted them, asking Tim if he wanted to cut the cord, but Tim shook his head. The thought of it, of cutting through tissue, made him feel a little woozy. After the cord was cut, the doctor took the baby to the corner of the room to do whatever tests that needed to be done and get him cleaned up a little more. Tim felt his attention drawn in two directions, but he stayed with his wife.

"You can go with him," she said.

He smiled. "I know, but I want to stay with you, since you can't go."

"Gotta tell you, he felt more like a linebacker than a fullback."

Tim shook his head and smiled. "Nah, any kid of yours is going to be too smart to be a linebacker."

The doctor returned their son to Al. The baby had on a diaper and a little blue hat. Tim watched in amazement as the little guy tried to look around, his little mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Soon, he was latched onto Al and feeding and Tim wondered how many man points he'd lose if he just started crying right there. Instead, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Al's, listening to the music and trying to burn the whole experience into his memory for safe keeping.

Tim was dimly aware that the doctor and nurses were still around, making sure the placenta came out and fixing Al up. But all of his attention was on his wife and son. He heard enough to understand that everything had gone well, that Al was fine. He was in tremendous awe of her, especially when he heard that Nick weighed over 8 pounds.

"Damn. Two weeks early, too," said Al.

"Imagine how big he'd have been if he'd gotten to cook for two more weeks."

"He'd have been a monster. Babyzilla. I don't think I could have done that."

Tim smiled. "After today, I'll believe that you can do anything."

After Nick had finished eating, he fell asleep with a contented sigh.

"You want to hold him?"

Tim must have looked a bit nervous about it, because Al laughed and promised that he wouldn't break.

"Come here," she said, pulling him down and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. Then she put Nick up to his chest. Tim put one hand behind the baby's head and the other over his lower back, and then stood up slowly. He remembered from baby school that it was important to have the baby on your skin, something about it being calming and reassuring.

He looked down at Al, who was smiling up at him with tears in her eyes.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Never better. I need a shower though. Desperately. Make yourself comfortable on the couch over there. I might be awhile."

"Do you want me to help you?"

"No, that's what the nurse is for. You go spend some time with our son."

Tim watched as the nurse helped Al over to the bathroom. She seemed to be moving pretty good for someone who just gave birth to an 8-pound baby. Tim walked over to the couch and carefully sat down. He rubbed the baby's back, still amazed by the soft skin.

Tim slipped a finger under Nick's hand and gently pulled it away from his chest. He was fascinated by the skinny little fingers with their perfectly shaped, tiny fingernails. Then he felt a small burst of pressure as Nick squeezed his finger.

"Wow, that's some grip you got there, for a little guy. You're definitely your mother's son."

Tim felt a little odd talking out loud to the baby, who was still dozing. But he found he couldn't help himself. Soon, he was whispering to the baby, telling him about his mother and his Uncle Billy and all the fun he was going to have growing up. The things he was going to teach him, like how to tackle and how to throw a spiral.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Al emerged from the bathroom, wearing a fresh hospital gown. She had a towel around her shoulders and her blonde curls were plastered to her head. The nurse made sure she was steady on her feet, and then left to look in on other patients, promising to check back in an hour.

Al gathered up some pillows and put them on the couch next to Tim. She gingerly sat down next to him, fitting nicely against his side. He put his arm around her shoulders and she settled into his chest, resting her head right next to Nick. Tim kissed her forehead.

"You're beautiful," he told her.

She lifted her head and looked at him, her face scrunched up in obvious disagreement. "Yeah, real beautiful in a hospital gown after giving birth. It's a great look."

"Are you arguing with me in front of our son?"

She shook her head and settled back onto his chest. "Nope, just stating a different opinion. We can reasonably disagree, can't we?"

"Yeah. I just don't want to fight in front of him. Ever."

Al put her hand on top of his. "I can't promise you we won't ever fight in front of him, but I can definitely promise we won't fight the way your parents did."

Tim squeezed her against him, not trusting himself to speak right away. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted." She sighed.

"Try to sleep for a bit. I can help you to the bed, if you want."

"Nope. If your chest is good enough for our son, it's good enough for me."

Tim smiled and pressed his head against hers. He didn't want to fall asleep himself, since he was afraid he might drop the baby. Al dozed for maybe thirty minutes, waking up just before the nurse came back.

"Would you like me to take a picture of you?" she asked.

"That would be great. The camera's in my jacket pocket over there," said Tim.

Al looked up at him. "When did you get the camera?"

Tim shrugged. "When I got the stopwatch."

Al didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Tim knew that she was happy, that she loved him and their baby more than anything, that she was touched that he'd thought ahead and planned for once in his life.

The nurse took a few pictures and then helped Al to the bathroom. Tim wasn't really sure what was going on, but Al had made it clear that he didn't have to know all the details of what happened to her. That it was a messy process and it was probably like sausage, better if you didn't know what all went into it. Apparently Stephen had had some issues with her after she had the baby. Tim rolled his eyes and pushed the thoughts of Al's ex-husband out of his head.

When Al returned, she opted to lay down in the bed. Tim handed Nicky over to her, then took a seat next to the bed, so he could keep one hand on his wife and one on his son. As soon as he was returned to his mother, Nick woke up and his little hands and head started moving around, pressing against her and soon, he was eating.

"It's such a relief that he seems to be a good eater. Doesn't always happen that way. Avery didn't do so well at the start – it was a real struggle."

Tim smiled and watched his son proudly. To be honest, he'd had some apprehensions about the whole breastfeeding thing, but Six had talked some sense into him. (_See it as one of nature's miracles and don't think much more of it after that._)

"Hey, now that he's done eating, think we could get a good look at him?" The skin-to-skin holding was great, but Tim hadn't even gotten a good look at the kid's face yet.

Al carefully held Nick up and they both looked at him.

"Who do you think he looks more like?" Tim asked.

"He looks like....a newborn baby. They all kind of look alike, with their squished up faces and coneheads. Although, does look like he has your lips."

"And your hair. The poor kid."

"His hair will change. Might get darker or lighter, or straighter."

"I doubt it could get curlier," said Tim with a grin. He reached out to take off Nick's hat.

"Please leave it on."

"So he stays warm?"

"Yeah, that's one reason. The other reason is that his pointy head freaks me out a little."

Tim breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Good. I was afraid I was the only one who felt that way....Are his eyes going to change color too?"

"Probably. They usually tend to darken up as the get more melanin."

"Too bad. I like that color – reminds me of yours."

Al tipped the baby to the side slightly to get him into a direct beam of light from the bedside lamp. "Actually, looks like he's got an eye from each of us – one blue, one green."

"No way!" Tim leaned over and looked at Nicky more closely. Sure enough, his eyes were definitely two different colors.

"Yeah, it's a Collette thing. Ed and Scott have the same thing, although Ed usually wears tinted glasses since he doesn't like people staring at him."

"They're the Middle Kids, right?" Tim loved Al's large, crazy family, with its designations for the eight children: the two eldest were the Big Kids, the next two were the Middle Kids, and the last four were the Little Kids. He'd heard stories and there was no doubt the Little Kids had had the most fun, especially the year that the four of them were all in high school together. Tim couldn't imagine having four kids within four years.

"Yeah. The Middle Kids. Charlie and I were always so jealous of their eyes. Junior year, we got a pair of cosmetic colored lenses and each wore one for a while, until he got an eye infection and Mom took them away."

Tim grinned. He loved those sorts of stories. Al rested Nick back on her chest and closed her eyes. Tim leaned back a little and just listened to the music, which was still playing. He recognized his favorite of Al's beloved German pop songs and realized that he'd never figured out why she liked that sort of music so much.

"Hey Al?" he asked quietly, in case she was sleeping.

She opened her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Why do you like German pop music so much?"

"I don't know. I guess partly because I like the language and partly because it's always got a catchy tune. And it reminds me of the year in college that I spent studying in Berlin."

Tim nodded. "I wonder what Nicky is going to like."

Al smiled. "Beer, football, and girls, if he's anything like his father."

"I don't want him to be too much like me."

Al grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Stop it. I'd be proud if he was like you."

Tim shrugged. "I'd prefer it if he was smart like you."

"First of all, as you often say, I'm the dumbest smart person you know. Second, you're not stupid, you were just lazy and not interested in school."

Tim sighed and shook his head. "I was seriously lucky to get out of high school in one piece, without any DUIs or baby mommas."

He looked down, took a deep breath, and then met Al's eye. "The funny thing is, back then....all this....having a kid, seemed like the worst thing in the world. But now....I couldn't imagine anywhere I'd rather be or anything I'd rather be doing."

"Timing is everything. You grew up okay, Riggins. I think I'll keep you."

"Oh you think so, do you?" He matched her playful grin and then leaned down and kissed her.

Shortly after the kiss, Al's eyes closed and she dozed off. Tim got up and stretched. He walked around the room a little to get his muscles moving. He was starting to feel tired, but knew he was still too wired to sleep. He picked up his camera and put it in his shirt pocket. Then he found his cell phone and texted Six and Coach Taylor. He thought about texting Billy, but he didn't want to interrupt his and Mindy's weekend away.

The nurse came in and Tim stopped her. "Do you think, maybe you could just let her sleep a few more minutes? She's completely exhausted."

The nurse wavered, then checked her watch. "I suppose I could check on a couple of others and then get back here before the shift change."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." Tim smiled at her, relieved that she didn't seem to be a former rally girl, cheerleader, or Dillon High School graduate.

Tim sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. He meant to only rest them for a minute, but he woke up some time later, disoriented and confused. He pulled out his cell phone and saw that he'd only been asleep for overan hour.

He went back over to the bed and put his hand on Al's forehead, smoothing the curls off her face. He knew this part of his job was officially over, but he couldn't help it. Her forehead felt clammy. Her eyelids fluttered as they opened. She smiled at him sleepily, then struggled to sit up.

Tim took Nicky off her chest, so she could have both arms to help herself up. Al tossed back the blanket and swung her legs around to put her feet on the floor as she sat up. She waited a few seconds before she stood up, swayed slightly then sat back down.

"Timmy, I really don't feel right." He could hear the alarm in her voice. He looked at where she'd been laying and could see blood. He pushed the call button on the wall while urging Al to lay back down. She did and he could see how pale she'd become.

"Al, I know you can bleed, but are you supposed to bleed _that_ much?" He was trying to keep the panic out of his voice, but wasn't sure he was succeeding.

"I don't know. I didn't realize it was that much.....why is it so cold in here? Can you give the blanket back?"

Tim covered her with the blanket then headed for the door to find help.

"Don't leave me," she said. He turned back and the sight of her, tiny and alone in the big bed, nearly drew him straight over like a magnet.

"Al, I have to find someone to help you. I promise, I'll be right back."

He didn't wait for her consent, he just turned and walked out the door as fast as his long legs would carry him. He nearly jogged to the nurses' station, where a few nurses were going through charts and chatting away.

"Please, I need your help – my wife isn't doing good. I think she's going to pass out."

Two of the nurses dropped what they were doing and followed Tim back to the room while the third picked up the phone to page a doctor. Tim got back to Al first, but she was unconscious.

One nurse told him to step aside, go sit down across the room, while the other was all action, assessing Al and moving through practiced procedures. Tim backed away but couldn't sit down, he just looked on helplessly. The doctor soon arrived and began barking orders and calling for a transfer. It was all a blur of activity and soon Al was being taken out of the room, which went from buzzing with activity to deathly quiet as Tim stood, holding his son. Alone, scared, and clueless.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim didn't know how long he stood there, dazed and scared. He felt like all that was anchoring him to reality was the weight and warmth of his son on his chest. It probably wasn't more than five or ten minutes, but it felt like days, months.

A doctor came in and asked him to sit down at the table in the corner of the room. He wanted to demand answers, to find out what was going on immediately, but found his voice wasn't quite working. So he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, crossing the room and sitting down as quickly as possible.

The doctor settled into the chair next to Tim and started talking, but it might as well have been a foreign language. Tim caught only about 25% of what the doctor was saying....hemorrhage, blood transfusion, clotting factor, radiologist. That one snapped Tim out of his stupor.

"Wait a minute. My wife is bleeding to death and you're taking x-rays?"

"No, Mr. Riggins, I know this is a difficult time and I'm trying to explain this to you. We have a special procedure where we can insert a small, thin tube into the femoral artery, wind it through the arterial system to where your wife is bleeding and then inject clotting agents to stop the bleeding. The x-rays and the radiologist help us see what we're doing."

Tim leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He focused on his son, hoping that would calm him down and keep him from asking any more stupid questions. He slipped his finger under Nicky's tiny fist and felt a strong, reassuring squeeze.

"We're hopeful that will work, but if it doesn't, then we may, as a last resort, have to perform a hysterectomy. We're stabilizing your wife now and then we'll move ahead with the embolization procedure."

The doctor slid a piece of paper over to Tim, asking him to read and sign it if he consented to the surgery. Tim pretended to read it, but honestly, he would have signed a contract with the devil if it meant he'd get his wife back.

The doctor left and a nurse came into the room to ask if he needed anything and tell him that he could wait in there or go down to the surgical floor's waiting room. But he couldn't leave the birth center with the baby. That made it an easy decision – Tim wasn't going anywhere without his son.

After the nurse left, Tim felt more alone than he ever had in his life. He took out his phone and called Billy. It rang about five times before Billy picked up, crowd noises in the background.

"Timmy? Are you a daddy now?"

"Yeah, Billy, I am but," began Tim.

"Hang on, I can't hear you. We just left the Monster Truck thing and are walking back to the hotel. Give me a minute." Billy was practically shouting to be heard and Tim tried to imagine what it would be like to be surrounded by hundreds of people. He suspected he'd still feel alone.

"OK, that's better. We just ducked into a drug store. So, you're a father now?"

"Yeah, Billy, we have a boy," said Tim.

Billy interrupted him again, this time with happy words and to repeat the news to Mindy.

"Amber's going to be disappointed. How's Al?" Billy asked.

Tim sighed. "That's the thing, Billy. She's not good....she's in surgery now. She lost a lot of blood and they're trying to stop it."

"Shit, Timmy, I am so sorry. Give us an hour, we'll be there," said Billy, all of the euphoria gone from his voice.

"Seriously? I don't want to-"

"Yes seriously," Billy interrupted. "No arguments. See you in an hour."

Billy disconnected the call and Tim was alone again, but at least help was on the way.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim took a deep breath and looked around the room, feeling like it was somehow both too big and too small. It was exceptionally large for a hospital room and filled with all sorts of furniture you don't expect to see in a hospital. You could feel lost in a room this size. But, at the same time, residual panic made it feel like the room was closing in on him.

"Okay, Nicky, I've just got to keep it together for another hour, 'til Uncle Billy gets here. I can do this," he whispered to the baby.

Tim sat down in the rocking chair, hoping the motion would be soothing, more so for him than for the baby, who was still sleeping. Noises filtered into the room, the happy sounds of grandparents coming to meet their new grandchildren, the rattle of a cart, the scratchy and distorted voice paging doctors over the intercom.

The rocking was soothing for about ten minutes, then Tim knew he needed to find something to distract him. He got up, located the remote control for the television, and sat back down.

"I sure hope we get some decent channels in this place," said Tim, flipping through the stations. He was relieved to see that there was at least some sort of cut-down basic cable service that included ESPN.

"Here we go, Nicky, SportsCenter. This is perfect. All we need is a couple of beers."

He wasn't able to completely stop worrying about Al, but at least the television made him feel a little more calm and a little less alone. And when Billy arrived, he'd nearly be able to pretend that it was just another day, hanging out with his brother, the way they had before wives and kids came into the picture.

A nurse came in with a bottle for the baby, so Tim fed him, apologizing softly for inferior substitutes. Tim was getting a little edgy, hoping that Billy would arrive soon and that someone would come in and tell him what was going on with Al. The nurse had been very pleasant and kind, but she hadn't known anything. He tried to remember what the doctor said about how long the whole thing would take, but he could barely remember having the conversation at all.

When SportsCenter went into its repeat, Tim wondered where the hell Billy was. Probably got stopped by the cops for speeding, maybe. Tim half-smiled and rolled his eyes. Billy and cops wasn't a good mix, not under the best of circumstances. Tim had never understood how his brother, who could sweet-talk and charm anyone when he was selling something, could always say exactly the wrong thing, in the wrong way, to a cop.

Tim heard a hesitant knock on the door and stood up, expecting to see Billy and Mindy.

"Lyla?" It took time a few seconds to remember that she was working in the hospital.

She took a few steps into the room and seemed extremely uncomfortable. Tim supposed it could be awkward, coming up to visit an ex-boyfriend's baby, but Lyla, Six, Al, him, they were all friends. Something else had to be going on.

"Do you know something about Al?" He closed the space between them quickly, causing Lyla to take a step back.

"No, it's not that..." Her sentence trailed off and the way she was looking at him, eyes big and sad, was seriously freaking him out.

"Then what is it? Six? I can tell something's wrong."

Lyla shook her head. "You need to come down to the emergency room with me. Billy and Mindy....they had an accident on the way here."

Tim heard what she said, knew what she said, but was having a hard time really understanding what she said.

"Tim, did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard you. I heard you." He looked around the room, even though he didn't even know what he was looking for. "I can't take Nicky with me."

Lyla stepped out of the room and returned with a nurse. Tim reluctantly handed him over, his chest feeling cold and empty without him. Tim followed Lyla out of the room and over to the stairs, since she said they'd be faster. He was relieved that he didn't have to stand still, that he could keep moving. He buttoned the top buttons of his shirt as he walked, wishing that he still had Nicky with him.

The emergency room was quite different than the birth center, noisier and scarier. Anxiety hung in the air and Tim felt his panic returning. He saw Landry's dad down the hallway, talking to a couple of doctors and looking very grim. He tried to tell himself that Officer Clark always looked that way. Lyla pointed him to a room and then waited in the hallway while he went in, covering the distance in long strides until he was right next to the bed.

"Billy, are you okay?" Tim looked at his brother, who looked pale and shaken, but at least didn't seem to have any visible injuries.

"I'm sorry, Timmy, I messed up." Billy's voice was hoarse and shaky.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. The doc said they might have to take my spleen out. I don't even know what a spleen does." He shrugged and tried to smile. "How's Mindy? No one will tell me anything."

"I don't know. Lyla just brought me down and sent me in here. What happened?"

Billy shook his head sadly. "Guess I missed a stop sign not too far from here. A truck hit us, on Mindy's side and then we spun around and hit a telephone pole on my side. How's Al?"

"I don't know, still in surgery. No one's told me anything either."

"Tell me about your son. I don't even know the kid's name."

"Nicholas William, Nicky. He was a bit over eight pounds. He's....I don't know....perfect, really." Tim's voice cracked and he looked down.

"She's going to be fine, Timmy, you've gotta believe that." Billy's voice was gentle and reassuring, reminding Tim of all the times he'd gotten scraped up and Billy had cleaned out the wounds and patched him up.

"Tough as nails and twice as sharp?" Tim tried to smile.

"Exactly. Now seriously, get out of here. Go be with your son, wait for your wife."

"But -"

"But nothing. They're going to be taking me out of here soon enough." Billy motioned for Tim to lean down, closer to him. When Tim did, Billy hit him in the arm. "Go."

"I know you're hurt and everything, but still, my wife hits harder than that."

"Yeah, well, my wife could kick your wife's ass."

"No way. Like Al always says about Wolverine, Mindy fights angry and that leaves her open to being tricked."

Billy smiled and messed up Tim's hair. "Get out of here, Little Brother. Go be with your family."

Tim wanted to protest that Billy was his family too, but he understood what his brother was saying. He squeezed Billy's hand and then stepped out into the hallway. He leaned against the wall, trying to get his bearings and pull himself together.

"You must feel like your whole world is falling apart right now," said Lyla.

Tim shrugged and tried not to meet her eyes. Something about Lyla always made her seem like a mistake he was about to make. Al had this expression she liked to use for a little thing that made it easier for things to snowball into a great a big mess – the slippery slope. The combination of Lyla and grief was his own personal slippery slope and he didn't want to go careening down that path again.

"Billy was asking about Mindy. I need to find out how she's doing."

"I'm not going to lie to you Tim. It's bad. She's in way worse shape than Billy."

Tim raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. "Thank you. Can you please come tell me if anything changes? I've got to back to my family."

Saying the words grounded him, made him feel safe and protected, even though he knew how fragile a family could be.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When Tim got back to the room, he picked Nicky up and settled down on the couch with him. He was trying to figure out how such a great day could go so wrong. He thought about everything that had happened and soon a familiar feeling slipped over him. Guilt.

He'd been the one who asked the nurse to go away when Al was sleeping. Maybe if she'd done whatever she was going to then, the problem would have been discovered and never would have gotten as bad as it did. And he was the one who called Billy, even if he hadn't intended for his brother to come, he should have known that would be the result of the call.

Tim knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with these thoughts. That he couldn't change what had happened. But he still wasn't able to shut them off entirely. He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping for just a few minutes of peace.

He was starting to feel the length of the day and the lack of sleep, but he afraid he'd drop or hurt Nicky in his sleep. On the other hand, having his son with him was such a comfort, he didn't know if he wanted to give that up. It seemed inevitable, though, that sleep was going to win out, so he got up and went over to the little crib thing on wheels a nd brought it over next to the couch and gently put Nicky down in it.

Then he sank into the couch and exhaustion overtook him. Tim didn't know how long he had been sleeping when the doctor came into the room, clearing his throat and saying his name to wake him up. He was instantly alert, watching as the doctor came over and sat on the other side of the couch.

"Mr. Riggins, your wife is doing just fine. It took a while to get the bleeding stopped, but the embolization was successful and we did not have to do a hysterectomy."

Relief flooded over him. "When can I see her?"

"We're going to hold onto her upstairs for a bit longer so we can keep an eye on her. She lost a lot of blood and is still getting transfusions to replace it. I'd say maybe a couple hours or so. Maybe a bit longer."

"Thank you," Tim said, not sure that was really adequate to express how grateful and relieved he was. The doctor nodded briskly and left.

Tim rubbed his face and debated going to find Billy and spend some time with him. But he was still so tired, he knew he wouldn't be much good to anyone if he didn't get some more sleep. Besides, Billy would probably just send him away anyway.

Hours later, the warm sunlight coming through the window woke him up. He was confused at first about where he was, but then it all came back to him. He had a moment of panic when he realized he'd been asleep for too long and he couldn't remember the last time Nicky was fed. But when he picked up his son, it was clear the nurses had been taking care of him. His diaper had been changed and he was wearing a tiny white t-shirt and little striped socks.

"That's a nice look, little man. Shame your socks don't match your hat," Tim said to him. Nicky opened his eyes and focused on his face. Tim did know how much babies could see, really, but he seemed to feel like Nicky was making a connection with him, like he understood that they were going to have an important relationship. Tim grinned and shook his head. He was clearly still tired if he was having weird thoughts like that.

He looked at his cell phone and he had several texts from Lyla. The first said that they were doing some more tests on Billy. The second said that Mindy was still the same, critical. And the third, which was sent about 30 minutes ago, said they were taking Billy to the surgical floor to prepare him for his spleen removal. He dropped the phone on the couch and looked out the window at the parking lot. The sunlight glinting off the cars was nearly blinding.

"Timmy."

He jumped at the unmistakable sound of Al's voice. When he turned around, her bed had just been wheeled back into place and she was adjusting it so she could sit up.

Tim went over to her as fast as his legs would carry him and gave her a fierce, one-armed hug, burying his face in her neck so she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. When he let go of her, she shifted over a little and patted the edge of the bed. He happily sat down, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

"It's so good to see you both," she said, gently taking Nicky out of his arms.

Tim brushed Al's curls back from her face and then put his hand on her cheek. "Yeah, we're happy to see you, too. Al....I thought we lost you. I really did."

"Sorry about that. Must have been really scary for you."

Tim nodded and took a deep breath. He didn't know how to tell Al about the accident. He didn't even know if he should.

Tim looked down. "After they took you away, I called Billy.....He and Mindy....well...they had a car accident on their way here."

Al took his hand. "How bad?"

"Real bad. Mindy's not doing well and they're having to take Billy's spleen out. Me and him, we don't even know what a spleen is or if it's something he's going to miss."

"It does a couple of things but mostly it creates the white blood cells that are responsible for recycling and destroying used up red blood cells and also for fighting bacterial infections. You can live just fine without it, although it might make you more likely to get sick."

"So he's going to be okay?"

"I think he should be, if he doesn't have any more serious injuries than that."

Tim nodded, but said nothing. Al squeezed his hand and he flinched.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to squeeze so hard."

"Well," he said with a weak smile, "it's sorta still banged up from yesterday."

"Sorry about that," she brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed one of the bruises. When she let go, he put his hand on Nicky's back.

"It's okay. You had the harder job yesterday, for sure."

"Do you want to go home and get cleaned up, maybe have a nap in your own bed for a few hours?" asked Al. "I think they're going to want to keep me here one more night, maybe even two."

Tim shook his head. "I'm not leaving you. I'm fine."

"I did bring a change of clothes for you – you could go use the shower in my bathroom over there."

"Are you sure that's allowed?"

"It has a lock. What do you think? The nurse are going to bust in and arrest you for trespassing?"

Tim smiled as he stood up. He knew he'd feel better after a shower. Maybe, by that time, the doctors would have more good news for him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: OK, so this isn't really a chapter. I just wanted to take a minute and let y'all know that I think I'm going to have to step back and do some serious thinking about this story because I'm having trouble committing to where it should go.**

**I started with two key plot ideas – Tim becoming a father, but then also, I was interested in the idea of what would happen if he also had to take responsibilty for Billy's kids. (Especially what would happen if one of those kids acted the way he had when Billy was responsible for him – sort of like how my mom always told me that one day I'd have a kid just like me, like it was some sort of a curse or threat. :)) I also wanted to do this in such a way that Tim could find a way to blame himself, since that seems like a Tim thing to do.**

**But, the trouble, of course, is that would mean killing Billy and Mindy and I'm just not sure I can do it - because of the investment in the characters but also I'm not sure there's a way to do it that's realistic and could have real conflict and angst without sliding into unreasonable melodrama. (Plus, I love writing Billy and Tim chapters – they are just so much fun together.) Also, I am more of a plodder than a plotter and I tend to get bogged down in practical details until I can't see the forest for the trees. **

**So I'm pondering my options, which I think are **

**A.)'Growing a set' and going with my original direction, **

**B.) Having Mindy die and then Tim has to help Billy through that**

**C.) Finding some way to let everyone live but still introduce some element of conflict that forces Tim to fully become a grown-up. **

**D.) Scrapping the story (or most of it) and starting over with the original idea (Tim being responsible for Billy's kids) but a different mechanism and maybe even a different kind of story-telling (like flashbacks as opposed to a chronological narrative). **

**Anyway, that's the state of things and I don't want to continue until I've worked this out in my mind. (Otherwise, it'll just limp along and everyone will be miserable.) Also, I wanted to ask for any thoughts, opinions, or advice that you might be kind enough to pass along. You can leave a review or go to my profile to send me a message or get my email address.**

**Thanks for your patience and for taking the time to read my story. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the ideas and encouragement. A lot of things have fallen into place in my head, although I still have a few things to figure out. But the good news is, I can at least move with purpose in the right direction. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy the story.**

When Tim came out of the shower, he felt much better and alert than he had for awhile. He sat down on the couch. Al came over carrying both Nicky and a blanket. She was wearing a robe and when she sat down, he could see the spot on her leg where they'd inserted the tube. It was starting to bruise.

"Does that hurt?" he asked, lightly tracing the outline of the bruise.

"Believe me, even if it did, it would be the least of my worries right now," she told him with a smile.

He still didn't really understand how that procedure worked, but since it seemed to have done the job, he was happy. Tim took Nicky and held him close as Al got comfortable, leaning in against him and snuggling down under the blanket.

"It's freezing in here," she complained.

Tim felt her forehead to make sure that it wasn't clammy, since the last time she complained about being cold was just before she passed out.

"I'm fine, Timmy. Really. They fixed me right up."

A knock at the door caused Tim to stand up with a certain feeling of dread, since the last person who'd knocked had been Lyla with the news about the accident. Tim blinked and tried to process what he was seeing – Coach and Mrs. Taylor walking through the door with bags from the Alamo Freeze. Coach came over and shook Tim's hand, clapping him on the back in that way men do to express support.

"Jason called us, told us what all was going on and said y'all might need a little help," Coach explained.

"We brought some lunch – figured you'd probably be needing something decent to eat at this point," said Mrs. Taylor.

"Thanks, Tami. I was just about to try to send Tim out for something. I don't think either of us has eaten anything in about a day."

"Tim, I'll trade you a burger for your baby," said Mrs, Taylor with one of her charming smiles.

"Now see, that's just playing dirty, Mrs. Taylor. That's not hardly a fair trade at all," said Tim as he handed Nicky over. "You will give him back though, right?"

"I'll try my best," she promised. "But he just might be too adorable."

Tami and Al started to talk about things that Tim really didn't want to hear about when he was eating, so he took his lunch across the room and sat down at the table. Coach followed him and sat down with a sheepish smile.

"There's some things I don't want to know too much about, you know what I mean?" asked Coach.

Tim nodded. He ate his burger quickly, his body hungry even though he was past feeling it and couldn't seem to taste anything. He texted a quick thank-you to Six, thinking that only Jason would know how to help when he was hundreds of miles away.

The sun coming in through the window gave the room a warm glow and he could nearly forget that anything bad had happened. Until he looked up and saw Officer Clarke standing awkwardly in the doorway. From the look on his face, Tim didn't think this was just a social visit to see the new baby.

"Son, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Mindy didn't make it," said the officer.

Tim felt like the breath had been knocked right out of him.

"Billy?" he asked and even he wasn't sure if he was asking if his brother was okay or if he had been told.

"Still in surgery, as far as I know, so I came down here. Technically, I probably shouldn't be doing this, but....." He let the sentence trail off.

"What would usually happen?" asked Al, who was now standing beside Tim, holding her bathrobe tightly around her.

"I'd contact the police in Austin and they'd tell Tyra."

"If that's what you need to do – I don't want you to get in trouble, but do you think you can make sure Landry is with them? She's all alone out there and no one should be alone when they hear something like that," said Al.

Tim was so relieved that Al was able to handle this. He wasn't sure he could talk about anything, let alone make decisions right now. Officer Clark said a few more things that Tim didn't catch before he left.

"Timmy?" asked Al.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said, even though he wasn't completely sure it was the truth.

"We need to call Celia to ask her to stay longer, but I don't think we should say what's going on quite yet."

"Celia?" The name was familiar, but Tim couldn't place it.

"You know, the babysitter."

"Yeah....could you do that...please?"

Tim didn't want to talk to anyone or think about what was happening or how he felt. Because he felt like the world was crashing down around him and that as sad as he was to hear about Mindy, a selfish part of him had been relieved that it hadn't been bad news about Billy.

The phone conversation and condolences from the Taylors were just a distant buzz in his ears. His thoughts were spinning and he couldn't seem to focus on anything.

"Is there anything we can do for y'all?" asked Tami when Al was off the phone. "You need a babyitter, groceries, anything?"

"Actually, could you stay here with Al? I want to go try to see what's going on with Billy?" asked Tim.

"Of course," said Tami.

"Tim, you mind if I come with you? I'm sure they're going to be talking about some more stuff that I don't need to hear," said Coach.

Tim shrugged and hung his head, his hair hiding his face. He wasn't sure he really wanted that but he also knew he didn't want to be alone. He wished that Al could go with him, but he didn't want her leaving the watchful eyes of the nurses, who had been coming in at least twice an hour to check on her.

Coach nodded like it was all settled and headed for the door, Tim trailing behind him, trying to figure out what he was going to say to his brother.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim and Coach got off the elevator on the surgical floor. It was quieter than the Emergency Room, but was much more like a hospital than the birth center, especially in its smell. Tim felt himself practically dragging his feet as he walked in.

The waiting room was lined with couches and comfortable chairs and had a television in the corner. Except for a woman sitting at the desk, the place was empty. Tim went over to her.

"Can you tell me if Billy Riggins is out of surgery yet?" he asked.

The woman typed something into the computer and the clicked the mouse a few times, mumbling to herself as she worked. "Looks like they've just moved him to the recovery room. I expect the doctor will be looking for you soon to let you know how it went."

Tim thanked her and then he and Coach sat down by the television, which was showing a football game. Add a couple of beers and this could almost feel like a regular Sunday afternoon, thought Tim. Except, of course, that it wasn't.

He caught Coach looking at him a couple of times, the muscle in his jaw twitching like he wanted to say something. But they sat in comfortable silence until the doctor came. Coach turned off the television. The doctor sat down.

"We removed the spleen without complications. Long term, the prognosis is extremely favorable, although it does increase his susceptibility to infections, particularly of a bacterial nature."

Tim blinked. "So he's okay?"

"He is. He's been moved from recovery to the post-surgical suite, so one of you can go in and sit with him, if you'd like." The doctor stood up.

Tim looked at Coach Taylor. "You don't have to wait out here."

"I know. But what are the chances of the ladies letting me watch football in peace down there?" asked Coach as he turned the TV back on.

Tim followed the doctor through a set of swinging doors and then was directed down a hallway to room 712. Tim walked into the room slowly, watching as a nurse hung up an IV bag and then picked up a chart and started to make notes.

"Hi, Tim," she said with a blinding smile. She was pretty, tall and thin with short blonde hair and big, brown eyes.

Tim was saved by her name tag. "Hi, Cassie."

Tim wasn't trying to be rude, but he didn't know what else to say to her. He sat down on the chair next to the bed and looked at Billy. He hoped his brother would open his eyes soon, but at the same time, he dreaded the conversation they would need to have when he did. Cassie drifted out of the room.

He didn't know how long he sat there, watching Billy and trying to think about nothing. Because if he thought about anything, he was sure he'd start to cry. The worst part was that he didn't even know what he would be crying about. Mindy, he supposed, but it was more than just Mindy being gone. He knew how this news was going to effect his brother.

"Timmy," said Billy in a hoarse voice.

Tim stood up and tried to smile at his brother, but couldn't. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck, funny enough, so I suppose I feel exactly like I'm supposed to."

"The doctor said you're fine, surgery was good."

"Where's Mindy?"

Tim looked down, trying to find the words and courage to break his brother's heart. But his pause and reluctance were enough.

"No." Billy's face crumpled and he turned away. Tim put his hand on Billy's shoulder, feeling helpless.

"I'm sorry, Billy."

He looked at a spot on the pillow near Billy's head because he just couldn't watch him cry Tim took a deep breath and looked around the room, locating a tissue box on the nightstand behind him. He pulled out a few tissues and handed them to Billy.

"Shit, Timmy. What about the kids?"

"They're fine, Billy. The babysitter is with them. Al called her and asked her to stay on longer. I don't know what Al said to her, but I know she didn't tell her anything was wrong because she didn't want to scare her or have the kids find out before we knew what was going on."

"But what....how am I going to tell them?"

Tim raked a hand through his hair and sighed. "I don't know."

"And how long am I going to be in here?" Billy had stopped crying, but he still wouldn't look at Tim.

"Four or five days, the doctor said."

"No way. Screw that. I want to go home now, be with my kids." Billy struggled to sit up, but the sudden movement caused pain.

"Billy, look, you have to stay here and get stronger. I'll bring the older kids here, they'll see you're okay and you can, or we can, tell them about Mindy. OK?"

Billy nodded. "Give me a couple of hours."

Tim sat down. "Sure, Billy. No problem."

"Timmy, I think I need to be alone. Can you....Shit, I didn't even ask you – is Al all right?"

Tim nodded, feeling guilty that his wife was fine and Billy's was dead and if he hadn't called because he was scared about Al, then Mindy would still be alive.

"Billy, I am so sorry. I called you...and then this happened. It's my fault." Tim's voice as low and rough.

"Were you driving the truck?"

Tim looked confused. "No."

"Yeah, and you weren't driving our car either. So, it's not your fault. Not even close."

"But..."

"No....Look, I just want to be alone for awhile."

Tim put his hands on his hips. "No way, Billy. I can stay with you for awhile. Mrs. Coach is with Al, so she doesn't need me."

"Timmy, please. Do this for me. Leave me alone and then bring Amber and TJ at 7. No, make it 7.30 so Jack will be in bed already, you won't get any problems from him. Okay?"

"You're just going to tell me to leave until I finally leave, aren't you?" Tim sighed.

"Yeah. So go. Please. Make this easier on both of us."

"Okay." Tim held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and walked out of the room.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim had known Al for five years, so he knew how she operated when something bad happened. First, she'd go into super-competent organizing mode. Later, when things were quiet, she'd feel whatever she was going to feel, whether it was scared, sad, or angry. But she never liked to dwell on those feelings – she always liked to do something productive or physical for distraction.

After the Taylors left, Tim sat down on the couch. Al laid down on her back, using his lap as a pillow, Nicky asleep on her chest.

"Billy wants me to bring Amber and TJ to him at 7.30. I just hope they don't ask me anything in the car. I don't want to lie to them, but I don't want to tell them anything either."

"Tim, you're going to have to at least prepare them for seeing Billy. How do you think they're going to feel if you bring them here and then surprise them like that?"

Tim sighed. "Could I bring them here first, so they can see Nicky, and then if I can't do it, you can help me?"

"Yeah, we can do that. So, I've been thinking about everything and I think Tyra should stay with the kids at their house, until Billy gets out of the hospital. Then, when he's out, he and the kids can all move into our place until he's recovered enough to take care of them by himself."

"Sure, if that's okay with you. How long do you think it'll be?"

Al thought about it for a minute. "Major abdominal surgery, going to be at least five or six weeks before he's going to be able to keep up with Jack."

Tim smiled and nodded. His three-year old nephew was called Hurricane Jack for a reason.

The plan in place, Tim could feel Al start to slip out of competent planning mode. She went quiet as her eyes filled up with tears.

"You okay?" he asked in a concerned voice, feeling a little stupid since she definitely was not okay, none of them were, but he didn't know how else to start the conversation.

"I just can't believe she's gone, you know?"

Tim nodded and brushed a few escaped tears off her face.

"Every good thing in my life right now, every single one of them, happened because of Mindy." Al's voice was a harsh whisper.

"I know, me too," he said softly.

Tim didn't know how long they sat there, grieving together but separately, while their son slept peacefully. Eventually, Al pulled herself together.

"You know what I want to do now?" she asked with a wry half-smile.

"No, what?"

"Go to the batting cages, then run about ten miles."

Tim smiled. "Don't think that's going to happen."

"No, I suppose not. Well, if I can't do something, least I can watch other people do something. There's got be a football game on," she said as she slowly sat up.

*** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

Later that evening, Al was in bed, feeding Nicky while she and Tim discussed what they needed to do to accommodate their houseguests and what the sleeping arrangements would be. Building a four-bedroom house for two people had seemed like a bit of overkill to him at the time, but now he wished they'd gone for a few more rooms.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Tyra and Landry. Tyra stalked into the room, her eyes red and puffy, her mouth tight and mean. She pointed at Tim, who felt his heart sink because nothing good ever happened when Tyra started pointing.

"What the hell happened? And don't just tell me it was an accident."

"I don't know, Tyra. Billy missed a stop sign or something and they got hit by a truck."

Landry tried to calm Tyra down, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it off.

"Where is he, Tim? Because I know he had to have been drinking or something."

Tim raked his hand through his hair. He'd never been good at defusing Angry Tyra. Usually, all he was good at was pissing her off even more. "Tyra, it was an accident."

"Shut up, Tim," she snapped.

"Time out," said Al. "Landry, can you do me a favor?"

Tim looked up and smiled as Landry went red, not sure where to look.

"Take Tim to pick up Amber and TJ. Timmy, you're going to want to drive the minivan, since it's got their booster seats in the back already. And maybe, Landry, you could be nice enough to stay at the house with Jack and Cody until someone gets back, so Celia can go home."

"Sure, absolutely," said Landry as he nodded his head and looked everywhere but at Al and the baby.

Tim kissed Al on the forehead and left the room without making eye contact with Tyra, since he knew she was trying to burn holes into him with her angry stare. Part of him wanted to loiter outside to the room, to listen in on whatever Al was going to say to her, but the other part of him just wanted to get the hell out of there.

*** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ***** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

Getting Amber and TJ into the car had been much easier than Tim had expected. He just asked them if they wanted to meet their new cousin. Amber had enthusiastically jumped up to get ready to leave. TJ had shrugged, but moved fast enough when Tim told them that they'd stop for ice cream on the way home.

After Tim parked the car at the hospital, he insisted that they hold his hand as they walked through the parking lot. He felt horrible, like these were the last few normal moments of the kids' lives. After they went into the hospital, everything was going to change.

"It smells bad in here," complained TJ, wrinkling his nose as they waited for the elevator.

"I know, buddy, I know," said Tim.

"Who cares? Is the baby really cute? I bet he is, even though he's not a girl," said Amber, bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement.

Tim was saved by the arrival of the elevator, which was blessedly empty. TJ shoved his sister out of the way so he could press the button. Then, as they were getting off the elevator, he hung back so he could press every button.

"TJ, that's not a very nice thing to do," said Tim half-heartedly as he wondered what sort of state Tyra was going to be in.

When they got to the room, Al had changed into her pajamas and was sitting on the couch, with an alert and awake Nicky on her lap. A much calmer, more subdued Tyra was sitting in the rocking chair.

"Aunt Tyra! We didn't know you were going to be here," said Amber as she ran across the room to hug her favorite aunt. Then she sat down on the couch next to Al and looked at Nicky. TJ hung back, standing next to Tim.

"Hey, TJ, come here, he's got two different colored eyes," said Amber.

TJ shrugged and walked over. He sat down on Al's other side and looked at the baby.

"Two different colored eyes," repeated Amber. "Don't you think that's weird?"

"Nah, I think that's kind of cool." TJ smiled at the baby and then made a silly face.

The minutes ticked by as the children met their new cousin and then took turns holding them. When their interest was starting to wane, Al looked up at Tim and her eyes told him that it was time to start talking to the kids. He walked over and crouched in front of them.

"Amber, TJ," he paused, waiting for them to look at him. "There's one more thing we have to do here before we go home."

"Get ice cream?" asked TJ.

"No, before ice cream. Your dad was in a car accident. He's okay, but he got hurt enough that the doctors had to do a surgery to fix him. Do you know what that is?"

"Like that game where you reach in with the tweezer and pull stuff out?" asked Amber.

"Yeah, sort of like that. They took something out and your dad's going to have to stay here for a few days until he's feeling a bit better," said Tim, looking up at Al, who looked both sad and encouraging. "We're going to go up and see your dad now, then Aunt Tyra will take you home."

Amber climbed off the couch as Tim stood up, but TJ sat there, staring at Tim with big, hurt eyes.

"Where's our mom?" asked TJ, his voice suspicious and verging on belligerent.

"Let's go on upstairs now," said Tim with a sigh. Al put her arm around TJ, pulled him close and whispered something to him that Tim couldn't hear. He could see the fight drain out of TJ as he stood up from the couch.

Tim took his hand and the three of them walked out of the room. TJ didn't try to push any buttons, he just stood next to Tim and looked down at the ground. Tim felt for a minute like the boy was a helium balloon and if he let go, TJ would float up and out of sight.

On the seventh floor, they made their way to room 712. Tim didn't know if he was allowed to bring kids up here, but he didn't care. In the room, Billy was sitting up in bed, looking exhausted and sad. Amber ran over to him but TJ was practically dragging his feet.

"Timmy, can you do me a favor and pop this rail down, then help the kid up here?" asked Billy.

Tim did as instructed and soon TJ and Amber were sitting on the bed with Billy.

"Give us a minute, would you?"

Tim nodded and left the room. He stood outside the door and leaned against the wall. Inside, he heard Billy's soft voice explaining what happened. He heard Amber crying. Then he heard TJ ask in a flat, emotionless voice "So she's never coming home? Ever?" Tim didn't know how long he could stand out there, listening to his brother's family falling apart.

"Tim, you can go on back to Al. I got this now," said Tyra. Tim looked up, surprised that she was standing there.

"You sure?"

She nodded, so he turned to leave. "Wait."

He looked back at her.

"I'm sorry. It's just, you know, sometimes mad is easier," she said as she tried but failed to make eye contact with him.

Tim closed the space between them and put his arms around her. It was awkward for a few seconds, but then she relaxed and he could feel the tension and hostility draining out of her. She felt strange in his arms, too tall and with too many sharp angles, and he felt like their relationship had happened in another lifetime.

She pulled away and sheepishly wiped her eyes. "Go on. Your wife and son are waiting for you."


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Coach Taylor had warned Tim that it was virtually impossible to feel fully prepared for the day you bring your baby home from the hospital. The realization that this tiny person was entirely dependent on you was both humbling and terrifying. Having taken Nicky home two days after he was born, Tim could completely agree with the coach. Tim and Al settled into a routine as best as they could, letting Nicky's needs set the agenda and the schedule. By necessity, most of the childcare fell onto Al and Tim was worried about her, since he knew how hard sleep deprivation could be.

For five days, Billy was in the hospital, so Tyra took the kids there each morning to see him. Then she'd take them over to Tim and Al's, where she'd watch all the kids plus Nicky while Al went into Riggins' Rigs to make sure everything was running smoothly. Tim had been going into work every day, since Al insisted that he keep to his regular routine. Having the distraction of work helped, although he did miss Nicky and Al when he was there.

Al was a big supporter of routines and consistency, so she was annoyed that Billy was keeping Amber and TJ out of school until after the funeral. She mentioned it to Tim, but neither of them said anything to Billy about it.

Billy was released two days before the funeral and it was agreed that he would stay at his house, since Tyra was there, until the day after the funeral. Then he and the kids would move into Tim and Al's. Tim was relieved for the extra few days, since he and Al were still getting the hang of taking care of their son. It came much easier for Al, since she had more experience with infants. She just seemed very attuned to their son and what he needed. Tim struggled to hear the subtle difference between his cries, which Al insisted could tell you if he was hungry, needed to be changed, or was just being non-specifically fussy.

While Billy was in the hospital and couldn't get to the funeral home, Tyra made all of the arrangements. Billy told Tim later that he was relieved to have Tyra in charge of such an important job. He knew Tyra would do it right, classy, how Mindy would have wanted it. Tyra asked the funeral director if Amber and TJ could or should come to the funeral and the man had said that they should be given the option, but not forced to go.

Amber wanted to go but TJ did not, so Celia babysat the boys during the funeral. Tim had been dreading the funeral, but it turned out to be both better and worse than he expected. Tyra had decided to have a dignified grave-side service followed by a catered lunch at Seven Sisters' Cantina. The service had been fine, although Tyra's eulogy had nearly made Tim cry.

Al, who brought Nicky along, held out until the coffin was lowered into the ground, then she leaned against Tim and he could feel her silent sobs. On the other side of him, Billy was looking at the ground with the shell-shocked expression of a war survivor. Amber was crying and clinging to Tyra, whose glassy eyes were about as close as she'd ever come to crying in public.

Al skipped the luncheon, opting instead to return to Billy's house and watch the boys plus Nicky for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Tim stayed by Billy's side throughout the lunch, making small talk and accepting condolences from people. He found this part of the afternoon completely exhausting and he was relieved when it was over. Billy met up with a few old friends from his Panther days, who insisted that he come out with him for a few beers to get his mind off of things. When invited, Tim shook his head and used Al and Nicky as an excuse. He was relieved to get out of there.

The day after the funeral, Tyra went back to Austin and Billy and the kids moved in with Tim and Al. If nothing could prepare you for taking care of your own baby, Tim could also add that nothing could prepare you for having your grieving brother and his four children move in with you either. Tim had thought he and Al were ready, since they'd babyproofed the house and set up the spare rooms to accommodate guests. But he was completely unprepared for the noise, the chaos and the kids' unpredictability, especially Amber. She could go from laughing to crying in less than a second, it seemed, and Tim was never sure what would set her off.

When Billy hadn't made any move to send the kids back to school, Al had had a quiet word with him. Tim caught some of it, something about the importance of routine and normalcy during difficult times. Billy had nodded and told Al to do whatever she wanted, which Tim knew must have annoyed her, but she didn't complain. That evening, she laid out school clothes for Amber and TJ, helped them make their lunches, and explained to them that it was time for them to go back to school.

The days blurred into one another. Tim tried to help Al out as much as he could, it was difficult. He was having to do his own job at the garage as well as the supervision and administrative duties that Billy usually handled. He'd be happy when Billy got back to work. Without Tyra to babysit, Al couldn't come into work anymore, so Tim was responsible for everything. He didn't understand why Billy couldn't watch Nicky, since he was home with Jack and Cody anyway, but he didn't want to upset Al by asking.

Although he missed Billy at work, Tim found that he liked having Billy at his house. Sometimes, it felt like high school all over again, as he and Billy stayed up late and played video games or watched Sports Center. It was comforting, to sort of fall back and remember how things used to be, before life had gotten so complicated.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

It was Friday, so on his way home from work, Tim picked up a couple of six packs and a few pizzas. If there was any routine he could wholeheartedly support, it was Pizza and Beer Fridays. When he got home, he could hear the television blaring from two rooms away along with a high-pitched screeching. He made a quick detour into the kitchen to put down the pizza and beer, grabbed one of the bottles and then headed into the TV room.

Billy, Amber, and TJ were all sitting slack-jawed on the couch, watching a cartoon that appeared to feature a lot of explosions in outer space. Jack was jumping up and down on a chair, providing the screeching sound Tim had heard.

"Billy!" Tim nearly had to shout to be heard and he had to repeat his brother's name several times before he got a response.

"What?"

"Where's Al?"

Billy shrugged. "I dunno. Your room, I guess. Haven't seen her all afternoon."

Tim went back to their room, where he found Al in bed, reading a book. Nicky was sleeping and Cody was smiling and laughing in his swing.

When she saw him, Al jumped out of bed, got Cody out of the swing, and picked up the baby monitor. She grabbed Tim's hand and dragged him out of the room. Tim was puzzled, but he followed her into the television room, where she deposited Cody and the baby monitor in Billy's lap.

"We're going out for a little while. We should be back before Nicky wakes up, but could you listen for him and call me if he wakes up?"

Billy nodded without taking his eyes off the television.

"Billy, did you hear me?" asked Al, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Yeah, yeah, call you if he wakes up. Got it."

When they were walking out of the room, Billy finally looked away from the television. "Hey, what about dinner?"

"It's in the kitchen," said Tim. On hearing this, Amber and TJ jumped up and raced out the door.

Al dragged Tim outside and took his truck keys from him.

"I can drive. I only just opened this one," said Tim, lifting his beer slightly.

"It's okay. We're not going far."

Tim shrugged and got into the truck. He knew Al pretty well, but she could still surprise him occasionally. The sun had set and dusk was quickly giving way to night. Tim took a drink of his beer and watched the shadowy trees slide past the window as Al drove toward where Jason and Lyla were building their house.

When they passed the building site, Tim could see the foundation and stacks of bricks. It looked like the builder was making decent progress and maybe they actually would have neighbors by Christmas. Al took the turn for the lake and drove down there, then parked next to the boat dock. The water was inky black and after the chaos of the house, the silence in the truck was welcome.

Al turned to look at Tim, who slid over into the middle of the seat. He brushed a few curls off her face, tucking them gently behind her ear. Then he leaned in and kissed her, feeling nearly intoxicated by the sheer novelty of being alone with her. He slipped his hand behind her head, pulling her in closer, kissing her more deeply until he felt her pull away.

He pulled back and looked at her, a little confused and unsettled. She was looking down, so he tipped her chin up until her eyes met his.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his low voice raspy.

"It's just, this isn't why I brought you here."

Tim tried to keep the disappointment off his face. "It's not?"

"No, it's not."

He traced the neckline of her t-shirt and gave her his best charming smile. "I miss you, you know?"

She sighed. "I know. But it's going to be at least a few more weeks."

He traced her jawline and then outlined her lower lip. "That's fine. I know. But I didn't think just kissin' required a doctor's note."

"No, it doesn't, but-"

Tim cut her off with a fast, forceful kiss, then he whispered in her ear. "But nothing. C'mon, mess around with me."

Al put her hands on his chest and pushed, hard. Tim got the message, sliding back across the seat with his hands up.

"Sorry, I just thought....I mean why else would you drag us out of the house?" Frustrated and confused, he took a long pull from his beer while he waited for her answer.

"Timmy, we need to talk," she said, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. Tim stifled a groan. At no time in the history of the world had those words ever meant anything good. And he knew that when his wife went into what he called armadillo mode, it was doubly certain that nothing good was going to happen.

Tim arranged his face into his most neutral expression and took a drink of beer. "OK, so let's talk."

Al took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Things have to change, Timmy."

Tim kept quiet, hoping she would provide more details. What things? Change how?

"So many things....I don't even know where to start. First of all, it's been two weeks since he got out of the hospital and Billy really needs to go back to work."

Tim shrugged. "I dunno, isn't he still recovering?"

"He can't left heavy things, but he never did much of the physical work anyway. He needs to get back into a routine."

"Look, if this is so important to you, then why don't you talk to him?" Tim sighed.

"Because he won't listen to me."

"I don't know why you think he's going to listen to me."

"Because you're his brother and you can make it clear to him that if he wants to stay with us, then things are going to have to change."

"Hold up – you want me to kick him out?"

"No, I didn't say that." Al's voice prickled with irritation.

"You want me to _threaten_ to kick him out?"

"No, I didn't say that either. Not exactly."

"Then I'm not really sure what you said. Because it sounded to me like you're wanting me to get all hard-ass with the guy when he's hurt and heartbroken and, to be honest with you, I'm not sure I can do it." Tim sighed and raked his hand through his hair.

"I'm just saying, tell him to go back to work. Make it about how you guys need him there. I don't care as long as he gets back to it."

"OK, fine. I'll do it." Tim's tone implied that it wasn't actually fine, but he knew he would do whatever she asked. Coach Taylor was fond of saying "my wife is always right," which Tim never really understood until he had a wife of his own.

"And he needs to start looking after his kids better. You have no idea what it's like when you're at work. He lets Jack run wild and pretty soon, I'm watching two babies and a crazed three-year old. It's too much, Timmy."

"Well, I don't know how you think that's going to change if Billy goes back to work."

"He needs to put them in day care."

"But can't you-"

Al cut him off, her voice sharp. "No, Tim, I can't. I can't do everything. In case you hadn't noticed, taking care of Nicky is a full-time job and lately, I've been doing that job and just about every other job in the house."

"Wait a minute, what are you talking about? I still clean up after dinner."

"Tim, you load the dishwasher and wash a few pots. That's it. You don't help with cleaning, you don't help with putting the older kids to bed, you don't do any of the grocery shopping."

"That's not fair. I'm working, you know. I'm gone all day and when I get home, I should get to relax."

"Yeah? And when do I get to relax?"

"What do you do when I'm at work all day?"

Tim watched anger flash across Al's face, a thunderstorm moving across a prairie. He knew he'd gone too far.

"You want to trade, Tim? You want to stay home and do everything I do all day and tell me if it's relaxing?"

He looked away and drained the rest of his beer. When Al got this way, which thankfully was rare, dealing with her was like trying to defuse a bomb while blindfolded and wearing welding gloves.

"No," he finally said softly as he shook his head.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Tim stole a look at her, trying to figure out if her anger was simmering or evaporating.

"Look, tell me what you need me to do," he said, taking a gamble and sliding back across the seat so he could put his hand on top of hers.

"Put Billy's kids to bed, or get him to do it – at a decent hour too. Waiting until they collapse and then carrying them to bed doesn't count. And if you could handle feeding Nicky when he wakes up around midnight, I think that would help a lot."

"I can handle that."

"And maybe we can make a list of the cleaning that needs to be done and then divide that up."

Tim groaned. "I hate lists and schedules. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that. But I don't want to have to nag and remind you all the time. Please don't make me be that kind of wife."

Feeling like his gamble had paid off, Tim decided to take another. He pulled Al into a hug and kissed her cheek. "I won't, I promise."

He felt her relax against him and smiled when she slipped out of armadillo mode, putting her arms around his neck and unfolding her legs so they were stretched across his lap.

"I mean it, Timmy. Things have to change."

"They will. I promise. Now, are we still friends?"

She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. "Of course we are."

"Because, you know, we don't really fight that much. So you might not know this, but the best part of fighting is the kissing and making out afterwards."

"Don't you mean kissing and making up?" she asked, leaning back to look at him.

"Whatever," he said with a smile before he kissed her.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Saturday afternoon, Tim found Billy and the kids in the television room, watching a silly 50s-era monster movie.

"C'mon Billy, let's go to the driving range."

"Nah, I'm good here," said Billy without taking his eyes off the television.

"I'll go," said TJ, jumping off the couch and showing more enthusiasm than Tim had seen from him in weeks.

"Sorry, buddy, this time it's just going to be me and your dad, okay? But when I come home, I'll take you to the park."

TJ nodded and collapsed back onto the couch, clearly displeased by the alternate offer.

"Billy, you haven't been out of the house in days. The fresh air and exercise'll be good for you," said Tim, standing in front of his brother.

Billy waved him off and leaned around to continue watching the movie. Tim rolled his eyes and turned off the TV. "I mean it, Billy, let's go."

"All right, all right. You don't have to be like that about it. Give me ten minutes."

He went out to his truck to wait for Billy, who appeared a few minutes later, carrying his golf clubs. Billy was silent and sullen on the way to the driving range, staring out the window.

When they got arrived, Tim paid for two buckets of balls and they went out to the very edge of the range. Without talking, they starting taking their shots. Tim felt a tightness in his lower back that reminded him it had been way too long since he'd played golf, or done any other real exercise, for that matter. After about twenty shots, Tim stepped away and tried to stretch his back.

"So, Billy, when you thinking on going back to work," Tim asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Billy shrugged and then hit the ball in a high arc out into the middle of the range.

"It's just, things are picking up again and I'm really struggling, doing the stuff you usually do plus fixin' cars. And you know, D'Andre is a great mechanic, but damn...he is so slow. Not having you and Al both is really hurting us."

"I gotta watch Jack and Cody. You know, Mins used to," Billy said as he hit the next ball extra hard, but at a bad angle, slicing it off into the trees.

"Yeah, well about that," Tim jammed his hand into his pocket and fished out a crinkled piece of paper. "Here's a good day care place. I called them and they want to meet with you on Monday."

Billy glanced at the paper then stuffed it in his pocket. He looked at Tim with narrowed eyes. "What the hell do you know about good day care places?"

Tim looked down, letting his hair fall across his face. "Well, I don't, exactly, but it's where Coach took Gracie before she started school."

"Mins was always saying that if you didn't get your kid on a waiting list practically when he was born, you'd never get them into a decent place. That's part of the reason she just stayed home with them. How can they suddenly take two kids?"

"Well, you know, maybe Mrs. Taylor might've had a word with them, given the circumstances and all."

Billy set up another ball and hit it angrily. "I don't need special favors from the Taylors or anybody else."

Tim stepped forward and put his hand on Billy's arm. "Yeah, Billy, kind of, you do. Look, you're a mess. Al said that you need to get back into a routine and I agree with her. You can't just spend all your time drinking beer and watching television."

"If Al thinks all these things, why doesn't she tell me herself?" He shrugged away from Tim's hand and set up another ball. Tim stepped back so he wouldn't get hit accidently.

"She said she tried but you wouldn't listen."

"I don't remember that." Billy was on fire now, hitting ball after ball without looking at his brother. Tim emptied his bucket into Billy's and stood awkwardly, passing his golf club from one hand to the other.

"Well, you have been pretty out of it. C'mon, Billy, you've got responsibilities now. I know what happened was horrible, but you can't just spend the rest of your life on the couch because of it."

"You don't know anything."

"I have a pretty good idea, believe me," Tim said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Billy didn't say anything, just kept setting up and hitting golf balls, each swing powerful and angry. Tim waited until he'd hit the last ball before he spoke again.

"Look, Billy, we're just trying to help you. And you really do need to go back to work. I'm serious about this." Tim kept his voice level and even as he looked at his brother.

Billy took a deep breath, like he was preparing to argue. Instead, he let it out slowly, and, as he did, he seemed to deflate, the fight draining out of him. "Yeah, I guess you're probably right."

"It'll be fine, Billy, go talk to the day care people on Monday and then you can start back on Tuesday. And, you know, if you're still recovering or whatever, you can just work half-days for a while."

Billy nodded slowly, like he was considering it. "I don't reckon Al would be very happy with just half days."

Tim shrugged. "She just wants to see you in some kind of routine. That's all."

"Fine," Billy sighed. "But, I gotta tell you Timmy, you doing her dirty work like this, it's a bad habit to get into."

Tim rolled his eyes. "It's not even like that, Billy. You're my brother – I've got certain responsibilities for you. So just leave my wife out of it, okay?"

There was apparently just enough steel in Tim's voice to give Billy pause. "All right, Timmy. All right. How about we stop at Smitty's on the way home?"

Tim thought about TJ, waiting to go to the park, and looked at his brother. He felt torn, but Billy was with him now and it was hard to say no to him. Tim nodded and headed back toward the truck, hoping they'd get home while it was still light enough to take TJ to the park.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for all the kind and constructive reviews. Anon, I completely agree with you on Al and that chapter was actually my attempt to try to make her slightly unreasonable and cranky. I guess I undershot the mark. Anyway, hopefully, you'll see more conflict and less perfection in the next few chapters. :)**

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The next week, Billy got Jack and Cody enrolled in day care and he went back to work. It went fairly smoothly, although Tim found his brother had an even shorter attention span than usual and was prone to making stupid mistakes, like trying to order 2000 oil filters instead of 200. Tim kept an eye out for him and was hopeful that things would improve.

Ever since the accident, Billy was reluctant to drive, especially if he was alone, so he and Tim were carpooling to work. This made Tim a bit crazy because Billy was even worse in the mornings than he was. On the mornings they had to open the garage early, it was particularly stressful.

Tim was also getting into the routine of Nicky's midnight feeding, which in actuality could be any time between midnight and 3am, depending on the baby, who seemed to have an uncanny sense of how best to mess up his father's sleeping patterns. It seemed like whenever Tim tried to stay up and wait for Nicky to be ready to eat, the kid would wait until 3 am. But if Tim tried to go to bed early, that would be the day Nicky got hungry right at midnight.

The first few times he was woken up, it was not by Nicky's cries but by Al's pokey elbow in his ribs and a hissed complaint. (_"Honestly, if I have to wake up just to wake you up, I might as well just feed him myself.") _Tim was starting to learn how to sleep less deeply, to always be half-alert for the baby.

As long as he wasn't too groggy when he woke up, Tim found he liked the night feedings. He'd enjoy the peace and quiet as he sat on the couch in the television room, usually in the dark, with George curled up next to him.

When Bruno died, Tim has been concerned that George would miss his buddy. Tim campaigned for a new puppy, but Al squished that idea mercilessly. _("We can have a puppy. Or we can have a baby. But I cannot handle both a puppy and a baby at the same time.")_ Luckily, with TJ, Amber and Jack in the house, George was getting plenty of exercise and attention.

Friday night's feeding happened to be on the early side. After preparing the bottle, Tim went into the TV room and was surprised to see TJ sitting on the couch, flipping through a book.

"What are you doing awake?"

"Can't sleep," replied TJ with a shrug.

"You have a nightmare or something?" asked Tim as he settled down on the opposite end of the couch.

"No."

"You just can't sleep?" At this point, Tim couldn't imagine not being able to sleep. He felt tired enough to sleep for three days straight.

"Nope. Al's taking us to the circus tomorrow." His voice was equal parts pride and excitement.

"Really?" Tim asked, surprised. It was the first time he'd heard of this plan.

TJ nodded his head resolutely and Tim noticed the way his hair flopped into his eyes. He made a mental note to remind Billy that the kid desperately needed a haircut. Mindy never liked him to look too shaggy.

"Where's the circus?"

"Midland."

"When did Al say she'd take you?"

"I said that already – tomorrow." TJ refrained from adding "duh" but just barely.

"No, I mean when did she promise you? How long ago?" Tim shook his hair out of his face and looked at his nephew, who had lost his juvenile swagger and was now staring down at the floor.

"Oh.....After....you know....The day she drove us back to school. We saw a sign and she promised if we were good and went to school for two weeks without complaining, she'd take us to the circus."

Tim tried to shrug off his misgivings about the circus promise and made a mental note to check with Al. Then he changed the subject.

"So, why aren't you playing football?"

TJ rolled his eyes and sighed. "Because when they had sign-ups in the summer, you had to be 6 and I was still only 5, so I wasn't allowed. But I'm gonna play next year."

"Yeah? You think you'll like it?"

"I _know_ I'll like it," replied TJ with a seriousness that bordered on fierce.

"What position you want to play?"

"Defensive end."

"Really?" Tim shook his head. "Why?"

"I want to flatten the QB."

Tim smiled. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. Quarterbacks are jerks. Always bossing everyone around." TJ's face was scrunched up with disdain.

"Well, it's kinda part of their job, you know. Is it a particular QB you got a problem with?"

"Yeah. Joey. He's an asshole."

The laugh was out of Tim's mouth before he could remember that he was the responsible adult in the room and wasn't supposed to encourage that sort of language. He tried to recover by putting on his fiercest scolding voice.

"TJ! You better not let your dad or Al hear you using that kind of language."

TJ shrugged and glared defiantly. "Well, he _is_. I hate him. He thinks he's so great and that he knows everything."

"You been playing football in gym class or just at recess?"

"Both. I hate when I have to be on his team."

Nicky had finished the bottle, so Tim stood up and held the baby up to his towel-covered shoulder. He started to walk back and forth, gently bouncing Nicky while patting his back.

"Why are you doing that? It looks silly."

"Because otherwise, any air in his stomach would give him a tummy ache and he'd yell and scream all night."

"That's so not fair! I get yelled at when I burp."

Nicky let out a loud burp.

"Ewww. Did he just throw up?"

Tim looked at the baby and wiped his face. "Not really. Just a tiny bitt of spit-up. Better out than in, right, Nicky? Do you want to hold him for a few minutes?"

TJ looked around like he was afraid someone might see him. He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face. Tim had him sit at the end of the couch, so TJ could use the couch arm to support his own arm while he held the baby.

Tim gently placed the baby in TJ's arms, showing him how to support the baby's neck and head and explaining why his neck was wobbly and his head was soft. Then, Tim took a step back and watched his nephew as he grinned and made faces at Nicky, the baby's wide eyes tracking his cousin's ever move.

After a few minutes, Tim picked Nicky back up. "OK, TJ. Time to get back to bed."

"But," he groaned.

"No buts. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner morning will come." Tim vaguely remembered that was something his mother used to say, but it didn't look like TJ believed it any more than he had when he was that age. Nonetheless, TJ peeled himself off the couch and trudged toward his room.

Tim put the empty bottle in the kitchen sink and returned to the bedroom. He changed Nicky's diaper and then put him back in the crib. Then Tim climbed into bed and gently shook Al's shoulder.

"Al? Al, wake up for a minute there. I need to talk to you about something."

Al growled, pulled the blankets over her head and rolled over.

"Al, c'mon, this is important." Tim didn't want to wait until morning because he was sure he'd forget about it by then.

Al flopped over on her back and shot Tim a dark look. "What?"

"Did you promise to take the kids to the circus tomorrow ?"

"What?"

"The circus.....in Midland this weekend. Did you say you'd take them?"

Al rubbed her eyes. "No. Of course not. Why would I do that?"

Tim sighed. "TJ said that on the first day they went back to school, you promised to take them to the circus if they were good."

"Shit."

Tim could see Al's shoulders slump, even though she was laying down.

"Your forgot?"

"Yeah, it looks like it. When I made the promise, it seemed so far away. Like I'd have plenty of time to sort it out."

"Well, at least you know now. You can still take them, right?"

"It might be sold out."

"There must be a way to get tickets. Like a broker or something."

"Maybe." Al yawned. "Do you think you could maybe take them?"

"Why? Don't you want to?" Tim turned on his side and faced Al, watching her stare at the ceiling with a blank look on her face.

"Just don't feel like it. It's going to be noisy, crowded and smelly."

"Then why did you promise that you'd take them?"

"I don't know.... Timmy, please?"

Tim took a deep breath and let it out while he counted. When he got to twenty, he was pretty sure he had his annoyance under control. "Okay. But what if it's sold out?"

"Then take 'em to the movies or something. And bring Billy with you, would you? Just get him out of the house for a few hours."

Tim agreed and watched as Al rolled back over and fall asleep within thirty seconds, without saying "good night," "love you," or "thanks". Tim stared up at the ceiling and just hoped that he'd be able to get tickets to the circus. He didn't think he could live with the look on TJ's face otherwise.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The next morning, Tim tried to get tickets for the circus, but learned that it had been sold out for weeks. With a knot of dread in his stomach, he went to tell the kids, who were watching Saturday morning cartoons.

"Are we leaving now, Uncle Timmy?" asked TJ, who leaped up from the couch and turned the television off with a jab of the button.

"Yeah, about that...." Tim took a deep breath, but he could already see TJ's face shutting down, closing the shutters against the inevitable bad news.

"Actually, we weren't able to get tickets," Tim continued. "But me and your dad will take you anywhere you want to go. Maybe the Children's Museum in Midland?"

TJ collapsed on the couch and kicked his heels hard against the leather. "We went there on a school field trip. It's boring. And stupid."

"Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese? And can my best friend Sarah come too?" asked Amber.

At the mention of Chuck E. Cheese, Jack began jumping up and down on the couch. Tim sighed. It was going to be a long day. At least he'd have Billy to help him.

"OK - Chuck E. Cheese it is then. If it's okay with Sarah's mom, then she can come. Get your shoes on. Amber, help Jack. Train's leavin' in ten minutes."

Tim left the room, feeling TJ's accusing eyes boring a hole in his back. He thought he heard the boy muttering something about promises. Tim was angry with Al's carelessness on the matter and the way she'd left him to clean up the mess.

From the kitchen, Tim could see Billy sitting on the back deck, a row of empty beer bottles lined up at his feet. Tim pulled open the sliding glass door and stuck his head out.

"Billy, c'mon, we're taking the kids to Chuck E. Cheese."

"The one in Midland?"

"Yeah the one in Midland. Unless there's one just opened in Dillon that I don't know about."

"No, Timmy. No way." Billy shook his head and folded his arms. "I can't go to Midland. I can't."

Tim was about to ask why, but the pain on Billy's face brought it all back to him. Midland. The last place Mindy and he were together. The last time Billy's life was normal and happy.

Tim mumbled an apology and shut the glass door, then headed into his room to put on his shoes. Al was there, changing Nicky's diaper and getting him dressed for the day.

"No circus. I'm taking the kids to Chuck E. Cheese," said Tim as he sat on the bed and put his shoes on, purposely facing away from Al.

"Thanks, Timmy. I really do appreciate this." She picked up Nicky, walked over to Tim, and put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and turned to look at her.

"Billy can't come, so will you come with me, please?"

"We can't take Nicky and Cody – it would be total chaos. Someone has to stay home with them."

"Billy can."

Al gave a bitter-sounding laugh. "Billy, in case you hadn't noticed, is already three-quarters of the way to shit-faced and it isn't even noon yet. You really want to leave your infant son with him?"

Tim sighed, rubbed his face and closed his eyes, wishing that when he opened them, everything would be back the way it was before the accident.

"OK, I'm going then." Tim stood up from the bed, brushed past Al and headed for the door.

"Timmy, wait."

He stopped and turned around. Al looked exhausted and miserable.

"Are we still friends?"

Even though he was still angry with her, he took three long steps over to her and kissed her cheek with a resigned sigh.

"Yeah, we're still friends. It's just.....you know....look, we'll talk about it later. I have to go." He squeezed her shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of Nicky's head.

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After three hours in Chuck E. Cheese, Tim was convinced that hell would also have a freaky animatronic mouse, screaming children and bad pizza. Amber and Sarah amused themselves, coming back to him only for more tokens.

Corralling Hurricane Jack had been a nightmare, especially when the boy had gone up into the hamster tubes attached to the ceiling. Tim hadn't expected the little monkey would be able to climb the rope ladder up into the tubes. Thankfully, TJ was able to go up and coax his brother down.

Otherwise, TJ had been quiet and sullen for the whole trip. Tim felt bad and wanted to spend some time talking to him, but Jack made that impossible.

All Tim could think about on the drive home was putting his feet up and having a beer in a room without noise or children. When he pulled up to his house, Billy was sitting on the front steps. The kids ran up to greet their father, Amber and Jack enthusiastically talking over each other while TJ was more subdued. After the kids went inside, Tim sat down next to Billy.

"What are you doing out here?"

Billy's eyes lurched drunkenly and his words were slurred. "Al....well....we kinda had a fight."

"About what?"

Billy shrugged. "Your wife's gotta big mouth and a lotta ideas 'bout how things should be."

Tim stood up. Talking to Billy when he got like this wasn't worth the effort. Tim went into the house, where he found Al in the kitchen, working on dinner. Nicky was in the baby swing and Cody was in the small playpen, both of them making happy baby sounds.

"What'd you and Billy fight about?"

Al looked up from the potatoes she was chopping. "That's between Billy and me. Although, just for the record, I don't consider it a fight. It was just a conversation that he must not've liked since he's been sulking outside like a spoiled brat for the last two hours."

Tim leaned against the counter and jammed his hands into his pockets. "I thought we didn't have secrets."

"This isn't a secret. I just don't want to talk about it," said Al.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't."

"That's not a reason."

Al closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose before responding. "Look, you want the reason? I'm trying to keep you out of the middle."

"But maybe I can help."

"There's nothing to help."

"If you two are pissed off at each other-"

Al interrupted him. "Tim, it's fine. Billy's just drunk and there's no reasoning with him right now."

Tim hung his head and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "OK, fine. Forget I asked."

Al put down the knife, walked over to Tim and wrapped her arms around him. Tim tried to hold back, but when she pressed her head against his chest, he couldn't help sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He felt the tension start to drain out of him as his body relaxed.

But still, he had an unsettled feeling in his chest. He knew things weren't quite right, but he had no idea what to do about it.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Monday afternoon, Tim had a minivan up on the hydraulic lift and was helping Carlos, one of the interns, replace the exhaust system.

"Timmy, come here." Billy's voice was sharp and Tim immediately wondered what he'd done wrong.

"Yeah?" Tim stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for his brother to yell at him.

"I need you to drive me over to the school." Billy didn't wait for Tim's answer. He just turned and headed out to the truck. Tim told Carlos to take a break and went after Billy, who was already waiting in the truck, impatiently drumming his fingers against the window.

Tim started up the truck and looked at Billy. "Are TJ and Amber okay?"

"No. TJ got into a fight."

They drove in silence, Tim not wanting to aggravate an already agitated Billy. At the school, Billy went into the principal's office while Tim waited in the hallway, sitting on an uncomfortable bench next to his nephew. Tim had far too many memories of sitting on this bench when he was student. He was surprised by how small and rickety it seemed to him now.

Tim rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking at the neat rows of drawings taped to the opposite wall. TJ had his arms crossed and was swinging his legs, the look on his face a combination of anger and guilt.

"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked softly, looking back at TJ.

The boy shook his head and refused to make eye contact. Tim shrugged and leaned back. He closed his eyes and waited for Billy. It felt like an eternity had passed before Billy burst through the door, grabbed TJ by the arm and started dragging him down the hallway.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" protested TJ.

Tim caught up with them and put a hand on Billy's shoulder.

"Billy, c'mon, you're hurting him. Seriously."

Billy flashed Tim an angry look but loosened his grip. The drive home was tense and awkward, with TJ sitting between them. Billy's arms were crossed and he stared out the window. TJ's hands were balled up into fists and Tim could see bruises coming out on a few of his knuckles.

At the garage, TJ scrambled out on Tim's side and walked wordlessly into the building, headed for the waiting room.

"Office, TJ. _N ow_," said Billy, Tim followed them and loitered uneasily in the doorway. He wasn't sure it was any of his business, but he felt an obligation to be there, in case either of them needed his help.

TJ sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his hands gripping the chair's arms like he was on a rollercoaster. Billy leaned against the desk and looked down at his son.

"Fighting, TJ? What the hell were you thinking? Principal said you just attacked a kid – no reason for it."

TJ scowled. "I had a reason."

"Did you? Because the principal didn't seem to think there was a reason. Unprovoked, she said it was. Like out of nowhere."

"That's not true! I tried to tell her what happened but she wouldn't listen to me. She'd only listen to Joey. Everyone thinks he's perfect and they believe everything he says."

"So what did he say?"

TJ looked down at the floor, his hair falling down into his eyes.

"TJ. What did he say? I ain't askin' you again," said Billy.

"Joey called Mama some names."

"Joey? Called your mother some names?" repeated Billy.

"Yeah. Joey McCoy....he called Mama.... he said she was a stripper and a whore," TJ's voice was a whisper and he was crying now. Tim sat down next to him and rubbed his back, wanting both to comfort his nephew and find little McCoy and have some very angry words with him.

"Joey McCoy? Is JD his daddy?" asked Billy, his face turning purple.

TJ shrugged. "I guess so."

Billy rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, then rubbed his hand over his face. "Shit. Joey McCoy wants to go around calling your mother names? Why don't you ask him why his mama never graduated from high school?"

TJ looked up at his father, a confused expression on his face.

"Why don't you ask him why his daddy, with his lightening bolt arm and fancy coaches, isn't in the NFL? You want to know why? Because he's a useless choker who can't handle pressure, that's why."

"Whoa, Billy. Hold up," said Tim as he stood up. He leaned toward his brother and whispered softly so TJ couldn't hear him. "You sure this is the way you want to handle this?"

Billy looked up at Tim like a man coming out of a trance. Tim grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the office, closing the door gently behind them.

"What's the problem, Tim? You heard what that little bastard said."

"Billy, you're too upset to handle this. Can you even imagine how you sound right now? You're probably scaring the poor kid."

"Yeah, I'm upset. You better believe it."

"Billy, you gotta watch what you say in front of him. He looks up to you – anything you say, you can pretty much bet is going to come out of his mouth tomorrow."

Billy looked at the ground and said nothing.

"Look, what did the principal say? You seemed pretty upset when you came out of the office," said Tim.

"She said TJ attacked a kid during a football game at recess, for no reason, and really hurt him – black eyes, a bloody nose, split lip, the whole thing."

"And is he suspended now?"

Billy shook his head. "Given the _recent, tragic events_, she said she wouldn't suspend him. But she's insisting that he go to weekly counseling sessions with the school shrink."

Tim shrugged. "That actually might not be such a bad idea."

Billy waved a hand dismissively. "That's all sort of useless, pansy-ass shit, if you ask me."

"Don't say that in front of him."

Billy rubbed a hand through his hair. "What am I supposed to say to him? I don't want him to be a little thug, but still, to be honest with you, I woulda done the same thing if I'd heard someone say that about Mindy."

"Well, maybe start with the first part, about not wanting him to be a thug and ground him or take away television time or something."

"Is that what Al would say?" asked Billy, his voice dripping with derision.

"No, Billy." Tim sighed. "That's what I would say and do." Without waiting for his brother's reaction, Tim returned to the hydraulic lift to finish up the exhaust system. Cars were definitely easier to understand and fix than children were.

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When the work on the exhaust system was finished, Tim stuck his head into Billy's office. TJ was sitting in the same chair, looking through a car magazine.

"Billy, I got something to take care of. I'll be back to take you home in about an hour," said Tim.

"Can I come?" asked TJ.

Tim looked at Billy, who sighed and shook his head. "You're grounded for a month, remember?"

TJ looked like he was going to argue, but apparently thought better of it. He went back to flipping through the magazine. Tim said good-bye and left.

In his truck on the way there, he had to admit he wasn't sure why he was doing this, except that it felt good to finally have something to do besides standing around while the world crashed down around him.

Tim pulled up on front of JD McCoy's house, which was the same house he'd lived in when they were in high school. He hadn't talked to JD in years, since the summer before Tim's second year at San Antonio State. All he knew about JD's life had come from third and fourth-hand gossip.

How he'd gotten Madison pregnant. How her parents had freaked out and insisted they get married. How he'd melted down during his senior year as a Panther and no college wanted to touch him because he'd earned a reputation as an uncontrollable head case. How he'd played a year of arena football until he wrecked his knee. And how now, he was working for his dad in the family business, but not doing anything particularly difficult or interesting.

Tim rang the doorbell and stepped back, hoping that JD would answer the door. He could hear a muffled shout and then pounding footfalls before the door was pulled open. A miniature JD, same goofy face, the only difference was a mop of red hair, looked up at him. Tim took in the black eyes and the split lip. TJ had really done a number on him.

"Your dad home?" Tim asked.

"Yeah." The kid turned and bellowed, "Dad! Someone's here for you!"

Then he walked away, leaving the door hanging open. Tim had no desire to go into the house, so he leaned against one of the pillars and waited. Soon enough, JD appeared. He looked like an older, more tired, bloated version of his high school self.

"Tim, hey, man, good to see you," said JD, his face lighting up at the unexpected surprise. Even a few years out of high school, JD McCoy was still like an awkward, overly eager puppy.

"Can I talk to you minute?" asked Tim.

"Oh, sure, yeah, come on in."

"Nah, why don't you come out here?"

JD looked around like he was searching for permission, then hurriedly agreed and stepped outside.

"So, what's up? How you been? I heard you're a dad now." JD was stumbling over his words and his anxiousness was putting Tim on edge. He remained silent as he walked around to the far side of his truck, then leaned against it and looked out over the McCoy's lawn, which was as lush and well-manicured as a golf course.

"I wanted to talk to you about Joey and my nephew, TJ."

"Oh yeah? Joey's fine. Madison's pissed but you know, boys will be boys. It happens."

"Did Joey say there was no reason for it? That TJ just attacked him?"

"Yeah, but, like....we understand. The principal explained to us that TJ has been through a lot lately and is like a little....uh....troubled right now."

"One-Two, I know you're a decent guy and I don't imagine you're in the habit of speakin' bad of the dead, say maybe calling someone a whore or a stripper?"

"Stripper? Uh, I don't know what you're talking about." JD's face flushed and Tim could see a bead of sweat gathering on his forehead.

"You know, you gotta be careful what you say in front of kids. You don't know when they're going to repeat something."

"Wait a minute, are you saying that Joey said these things to TJ, about his mother?"

Tim nodded. "It better not happen again, One-Two I'm serious."

"God, no. I don't know where he heard that. Shit. He's six years old. He shouldn't know those words at all." JD looked over his shoulder and Tim followed his gaze to a second floor window, where Madison stood looking out of the blinds.

Tim pushed himself off the side of his truck and stood up straight. "OK, are we cool here?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I'll talk to Joey. It won't happen again."

Tim clapped JD on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince, then got into his truck. He believed JD, both that it wasn't him who had said those things and that it wouldn't happen again.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

TJ's fight acted as a sort of wake up call for Billy, Tim also thought that the school psychologist's calling Billy in after TJ's first session also had something to do with the turn around. Whatever the reason, Billy seemed to be taking a greater interest in the kids, helping out more around the house, and he even started driving alone again.

On a Friday night a few weeks after the fight, Billy, Tim and Al were sitting on the back porch. The kids were all in bed and the evening was warm and peaceful.

"So, you know, Amber's birthday's at the end of this month," said Billy.

Tim and Al both nodded.

"Well, she's asked for a sleepover party. She wanted to invite twelve girls, but I talked her down to four."

Al gave Tim a look that he knew was a low-level sort of ominous. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of four more kids in the house. Tim shrugged and took a pull from his beer.

"Nice, when's this?" said Al without a lot of enthusiasm.

"Last weekend this month. It's going to be a costume party sleepover too, since it's so close to Halloween."

"You come up with that idea?" asked Tim with a grin.

"Nah, that was all Amby. She's got the whole thing planned although she's going to be disappointed when she figures out that the DVD for _Camp Rock_ is as close as she's going to get to the Jonas Brothers."

Tim laughed.

"Oh, and I've decided – the kids and I are moving back home tomorrow," said Billy.

"Tomorrow? Are you sure you're ready?" asked Al, her forehead wrinkled with concern. It was a reaction that Tim didn't understand, since he knew that she'd been struggling with having them living in the house. He'd have thought she would've been jumping up and down with excitement.

"Yeah. I went to the doctor yesterday and he said everything is healed perfectly. And, you know, your help has been great. I don't know how I would have survived this alone, but it's time for me to try."

"Well...I'll miss having you around," said Tim. He meant it too. Even though it had been difficult, he liked seeing Billy all the time and he enjoyed the kids, even if Jack was too much to handle most of the time.

"You know where we are if you need anything. And I expect y'all to come over for dinner at least once a week," said Al, her voice wavering.

"Yeah, we will."

"And since you're going to have your hands full for the birthday party, TJ and Cody can sleep over here that weekend," said Al.

"Any way I can convince you to take Jack as well?"

Al shook her head hard enough to send her curls flying. "No way, Billy. I love him to death but I know my limits. If I could figure out how to hook that kid up to the power grid, I'd win a Nobel Prize and solve the world's energy problems."

Billy laughed and it made Tim realize that it was a sound he hadn't heard very much lately. It felt good, right, like things were looking up.

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With Billy and the kids out of the house, Tim expected that Al's mood would improve, that she would be less cranky and more relaxed. But it didn't seem to work that way. Things were better, to be sure, but they weren't the way they were before Nicky was born.

Or was it that they weren't the way they were before Mindy had died? He knew Mindy was Al's best friend and that Al had relied on her for advice, since Mins was never short of opinions.

He tried to ask Al about it, but she'd dodged the question. When he pressed it, she'd leaned over and kissed him, a blatant attempt to distract him. And damn if it didn't work, even though he knew exactly what she was doing at the time.

When Coach Taylor brought his car in for an oil change, Tim had a chance to talk to him. Tim asked when things would go back to how they were before and the Coach had just chuckled and rubbed his jaw. After adjusting the brim of his baseball cap, he'd said, "There's no back in this game, there's only forward. You just have to find your new normal. It'll take some time and it might get rocky, but you'll get there. You'll get there."

It was advice that covered both the addition of a son into their lives and the loss of a dear friend. Whenever Al snapped at him, he remembered the advice, holding it as tightly as he ever had a football.

A few days before Amber's birthday party, Tim and Al were curled up together on the couch in the living room. Al was reading _The Gathering_ and Tim was drinking a beer, absently running his fingers through Al's hair while thinking about not much at all. It was nearly a perfectly evening, until Al started crying.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. This book....it's just so sad."

Tim gently took the book out of her hands, careful to keep her place. He turned it over to read the summary on the back.

"You're reading a book about an Irish family getting together for a funeral of a brother who committed suicide by drowning himself. Is that really the best idea?"

Al shrugged, took the book back, slid her bookmark in between the pages and closed the book.

"Hey, if I talk to you about something, will you promise to just listen to me and not get mad?" he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the words.

She wiped her eyes and started to pull away from him, but he stopped her. "No, no. C'mon, Just stay here. I hate when you go into armadillo mode. I just want to talk to you and it's easier for me like this."

He meant it, too. Something about the closeness without the pressure of eye contact made it much easier for him.

"Okay," said Al, settling back against him.

He set his beer on the end table so he could take her hand, his thumb rubbing small circles on her wrist.

"You haven't been yourself lately. I thought with Billy gone, things would get easier, which they have and you'd be happier, but you're not. Not really," he said softly.

Al sighed. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Tell me what's bothering you. Even if you don't think it's important, even if you don't think I can help, just tell me what's going on in your head because I really don't know."

She was quiet for what seemed like several minutes. Tim waited, trying to keep his mind from wandering into dark corners and bad conclusions.

"I'm just terrified, every day. That something bad will happen to Nicky. Or you. I worry about Billy and the kids. In one way, it was easier when they were here, since I had some control over what happened to them........It's like this constant buzz in my head, like my heart is always just a little too fast, waiting for bad news to come. It's exhausting, Timmy. Even when I sleep, my dreams are frantic and when I wake up, it's like I haven't slept at all."

Tim wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, wishing he could take away her worrying. He understood it, since he had a little bit of it himself, especially where Nicky was concerned. He'd even asked Six if it was normal to check to see that the baby was breathing when he was asleep. Tim wanted to tell her it would all be okay, but they both knew that there were no guarantees of that.

They were both quiet for awhile until Al broke the silence. "You wanted to talk, but you haven't said very much."

Tim laughed. "I guess that was just my trick to get you to talk."

She playfully poked her elbow into his ribs in a way that tickled more than it hurt. "Well, it worked then, didn't it."

"I just don't know what to say. You know I was always better at listening than talking."

"Yeah, I know." She traced a pattern on his arm and he closed his eyes.

"There is one thing though, about Billy, you really think he isn't doing good? I mean, he moved out of the house and everything. I thought that was a good thing."

"I don't think I said that, although I don't think it's irrational to worry about him right now. The last couple of times they came over for dinner, the kids' clothes were a little dirty. And I don't think TJ has had a haircut in months. His hair is nearly longer than yours."

"Maybe he just likes long hair." Tim shrugged, but a tiny memory in the back of his head nagged at him, reminding him that he'd first begun to like long hair mostly because when his mother had deteriorated, his haircuts had become much less frequent.

"I'm not saying that there's anything wrong, exactly. I'm just saying we need to not take it for granted that just because Billy pulled himself together and moved back home that everything is magically fine now. Because it's not," said Al.

Tim wanted to say, but didn't, that it never would be fine. At least not the same kind of fine. They were all just struggling to find their new fine, their new normal.


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

It was early in the morning, the sky just beginning to lighten in the east when Tim woke up. Checking the clock, he groaned and flopped back on his pillow. The only thing worse than waking up early was waking up early on a Saturday when you didn't need to. Usually, Tim could roll over and go back to sleep, but he felt too awake for that.

He got out of bed, got dressed and headed out to the kitchen, where he found TJ eating a bowl of cereal while reading the back of the cereal box.

"Hi, Uncle Timmy. What does fort-a-fi-ed mean?" TJ was learning how to read and still needed to slowly sound out the longer, more difficult words.

Tim rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Too early in the morning for that sort of question. Ask me an easier one."

TJ ran his finger down the box, like he was looking for something. "Here, riddles. Where do cows go on Friday nights?"

"No idea."

"The moooovies." TJ giggled and Tim grinned. He got a bowl from the cupboard and sat down next to his nephew.

"I'm 0 for 2 in the question department. Maybe we better hold off until later."

"Okay," said TJ with only a hint of disappointment in his voice. They ate their cereal in silence as the sun came up. When they were finished, Tim put both of their bowls in the dishwasher and stood at the sink, looking out the window.

"You want to go fishing?" asked Tim.

"Out on the lake in the boat?" asked TJ.

"Yeah. Standing on the dock is just boring."

TJ nodded enthusiastically.

"Then go get dressed," said Tim, the words barely out of his mouth before TJ was racing out of the kitchen.

Tim decided he didn't feel like driving to buy bait, so he got a hot dog out of the refrigerator and cut it up into small pieces, which he put in a ziplock bag. He left a note for Al and made sure he had his cell phone in his pocket.

Then he put on his boots and jacket and waited by the front door. TJ came out wearing a sweatshirt that was about two sizes too small for him. Tim made a mental note to talk to Billy about that.

They went out to the garage and got the tackle box and fishing rods, then walked to the dock. Tim stepped down into the boat first, then tried to help TJ down, but the boy waved him off.

"I'm six, now, you know," he said, his voice full of confidence and irritation. Tim held his hands up and leaned back, half-holding his breath as TJ scrambled awkwardly into the boat.

Tim went back to the bench seat, flipped up the lid and rummaged around until he came up with one of the child-sized life jackets that Al had insisted on buying. He tossed it to TJ.

"Do I have to?" he whined.

"Yep. Boat ain't moving 'til you're wearing that."

TJ pouted but slowly put on the vest and Tim fastened the straps for him, making sure they were snug.

"Where's your life jacket?"

Tim sighed. He hated wearing the damn things too, but he could see the kid's point. He returned to the bench seat, got out a life jacket and put it on. Then he untied the boat, sat down behind the wheel and started the engine.

He piloted the boat away from the dock and headed out to a shady spot near where a creek emptied into the lake. Their path took them past Jay and Lyla's house. The exterior was nearly finished. Now all the work was happening inside. The last time he talked to Six, it sounded like the house would be finished by Thanksgiving, but they weren't planning to move in until the week before Christmas, when Lyla was on break and the high school football season had ended.

"Who's going to live there?" asked TJ, pointing.

"My best friend Jay and his family. You know Noah Street, right?"

TJ nodded.

"Well, Jay's his dad. You friends with Noah at all?"

TJ shrugged. "We play football at recess sometimes, even though he's in third grade and I'm only in stupid first grade."

"Won't be like that forever."

"It feels like it sometimes." TJ sighed.

Tim smiled and shut off the engine. He took one of the rods, baited the hook with a bit of hot dog and handed it over to TJ, who took it eagerly. Tim leaned out of the way of the boy's cast and watched as he did a pretty decent job, the orange bobber sailing through the air before landing with a small splash about thirty feet from the boat. Tim picked up his fishing rod, baited the hook and cast the line in the opposite direction. Then he settled in his seat to wait, keeping half an eye on his nephew while his thoughts wandered aimlessly.

"How long does it take?" asked TJ.

"You've been fishing before. You know it takes as long as it takes. That's why it's called fishing and not catching."

TJ giggled. "I wish it was called catching. That would be even more fun."

Tim smiled and leaned back, enjoying the sunlight on his face and watching the sparkling reflections on the water. The silence lasted for maybe ten or fifteen minutes before TJ squealed and started reeling in his line, the orange bobber barely visible beneath the water.

Tim leaned forward and watched, ready to step in if TJ needed him. In the end, the boy was able to reel the fish in all by himself, a nice-sized sun fish. TJ reached for the fish but Tim pulled him back.

"Until your hands are bigger than your fish, I'm going to have to do this part," he said as he grabbed the line. "See these fins here? They're pretty sharp, so you have to be able to stretch your hand from the top of the body around to the belly, so then you can smooth the fin back and hold it safely. See how I'm going this?"

"Yeah," said TJ, his eyes glued to the fish.

Tim held the fish in one hand and carefully worked the hook out of its mouth with his other hand. When he was done, he held the fish out to his nephew. "Go on, you can touch it if you want."

TJ tentatively put a finger on the fish's head, looking at it with huge eyes. "Now what?"

"Now, we put him back." Tim leaned over the side of the boat, put the fish under the water and then let go. He could see just a squiggle under the water as the fish darted away.

"Think you can bait your own hook?" Tim asked, handing TJ a piece of hot dog. He watched as TJ seriously and carefully set about baiting the hook, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. When he was done, he cast again and then sat back down to wait.

Tim settled back into his seat, barely watching his bobber at all. Truth was, he didn't care all that much about catching fish. He just liked being out in the boat. He was especially having fun with TJ and couldn't wait until Nicky was old enough to take fishing.

"Uncle Timmy?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get to be Nicky's dad?"

"How did I get to be Nicky's dad," Tim repeated slowly, trying to buy himself time for his brain to catch up with the situation. What exactly was the kid asking here? Where babies came from? He was pretty sure he didn't want to go anywhere near that topic.

"Yeah," said TJ, looking at Tim like he expected an answer sooner rather than later.

Tim took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks and then exhaled slowly. The little hamster in his brain was spinning the wheel like mad this morning, but no great ideas were lighting up for him. "I'm sorry, TJ, I don't know if I understand your question. Are you asking me where babies come from?"

"No, they come from their mom's tummies," said TJ, his tone suggesting that _everyone_ knew this. "But how is the dad the dad? Is it just because the dad is married to the mom?"

"No, there's more to it than that. Maybe this is something you should talk to your dad about."

"If my dad marries a new lady, does she become my mom?"

"Whoa, this is definitely something you need to talk to your dad about."

"I tried to ask him. He didn't want to talk about it." TJ looked down, his hair curtaining his face although Tim could hear the tears in his voice. He put his hand on TJ's shoulder.

"TJ, your mom will always be your mom, even if she's not here any more. No one and nothing can change that."

"And will my dad always be my dad?"

"Of course he will."

"What if I don't want him to be my dad anymore? What if I want you to be my dad? Like you're Nicky's dad."

Tim rubbed his face and tried to figure out how their conversation had taken this turn. "Look, TJ, your dad loves you very much. He's just really sad right now. He really misses your mom, just like you do."

"He forgot my birthday, but Amber got her birthday. She even got a great big party."

Shit, Tim thought. Billy wasn't the only one who had forgotten TJ's birthday. He and Al had completely forgotten as well. Now that he thought about it, he realized it had been in September, probably right around the time of Mindy's funeral.

"TJ, I didn't remember your birthday either. Things were really......messed up then. Everyone was so sad about your mom, I guess we kind of forgot about everything else."

TJ's feet dangled below his seat and he started to kick them lazily. "He still should of remembered."

"Can we make it up to you now? Maybe pick a different day to have your birthday this one time only?"

"No." TJ shook his head to emphasize his disapproval of the idea. "Are you sure you can't be my dad?"

"I'm sure. And I think your dad would be pretty sad if he heard you say that."

"Well, then can we all move back in with you and Al?"

"Why would you want to do that? Don't you like living in your own house, having your own room again?"

TJ shrugged. "I like my room. But Al makes much better dinners and if I woke up in the middle of the night you were usually feeding Nicky so I could talk to you. When I wake up now, my dad is never awake. And he smells funny."

"He smells funny?" asked Tim, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Kind of like beer but worse."

He was definitely going to have to talk to Billy. Tim raked a hand through his hair and stared at the bottom of the boat, unsure of what to say next.

"I just want things to go back to how they used to be," said TJ.

"I know, buddy, I know, Me too. But that's not how it works. Look, I'll talk to your dad. I can't promise anything will change, but you know you can call me or Al any time if you ever need anything."

TJ nodded and turned his attention back to fishing. Tim leaned back, not looking forward to the conversation he needed to have with Billy.


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim thought hard about what to say to Billy and how to say it, but when Billy came to pick up Cody and TJ after Amber's party, Tim found he couldn't say anything. It didn't help that Billy was in a rush and Amber and Jack were waiting in the minivan. Tim figured he could use a few more days to think about things, to watch Billy at work and see if he could pick up any hints of trouble.

He didn't mention it to Al, fearing that she would either push him into talking to Billy before he was ready or would just go talk to him herself. Tim didn't know which would be worse. A few days stretched into a week, then nearly two weeks. Tim still hadn't found the words, maybe because he didn't see evidence that anything was seriously wrong.

Sure, Billy seemed a little bleary-eyed most mornings, but he said that Cody hadn't been sleeping very well lately. And yeah, the kids' clothes sometimes seemed like they'd seen better days, but Billy said there was something wrong with the washing machine and he was going to either fix or replace it soon. So maybe sometimes Billy seemed like he was a million miles away and Tim still had to double-check the parts orders, but it was no worse than it had been when Billy was living with them.

All in all, it seemed like Billy was doing well enough. Maybe not perfectly. Certainly not anywhere near as well as when Mindy was alive, but he was managing to put one foot in front of the other and get through each day. Al always said that some days, that was all you could hope for.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ******* **** *** ****

Tim was at the garage, trying to fix a particularly difficult transmission, which demanded his full attention. He had started on it as soon as he got into work and had quickly lost track time. It startled him when D'Andre lumbered over.

"Lady's on the phone looking for Billy. Says it's really important," he said.

Tim looked up at the clock, surprised to see that it was already 10.30. "He's not here?"

D'Andre shook his head and Tim sighed, then wiped his hands on a rag he'd left on the roof of the car. "OK, I'll take care of it."

Tim went into Billy's office and sat down at his desk before picking up the phone and jabbing the button for the blinking light.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Mr. Riggins?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

"Well, yeah, probably not the one you're looking for. I'm his brother though, can I help you?"

"This is Cheryl, from the day care center. We just wanted to let you know that Jack and Cody have not yet arrived."

"Uh....sorry about that," said Tim, his mind spinning through the possible reasons that his nephews would not have gotten to day care. None of them were good.

"No need to apologize. We just like to verify that the children are okay. You know, tragedies can happen, like children left inside locked cars."

"Yeah, I know," said Tim grimly. "Look, Billy's not at work yet, so maybe one of the kids is sick and he just forgot to call you. I'll stop by the house and make sure everything's okay."

"That's fine. If you could please remind your brother to review our drop-off and call-in policies. Unless we hear otherwise, we will expect the children tomorrow between 7 and 10."

"Okay. Thanks." Tim hung up the phone and held his hands over his face, sighing deeply. Then he stood up, grabbed his jacket and walked quickly out to his truck, shouting out to D'Andre that he had something to take care of and would be back soon.

Tim had the truck halfway up the street before he'd properly shut the door or fastened his seatbelt. He drove quickly but tried to stay alert and aware. He didn't want to panic and make a stupid mistake, which could lead to getting stopped by the cops or worse. He made it to Billy's house in minutes and felt partially reassured when he saw the minivan still sitting in the driveway.

As he passed the minivan, he cupped his hands around his eyes and peered in the windows, carefully scanning to make sure all the seats were empty. He was relieved that he was able to check one major fear off his list. He covered the distance between the car and the front door in a handful of long, hurried strides. He knocked hard on the door and waited. He could hear the TV blaring and a baby crying.

Tim tried the door handle and it opened easily. He stepped into the house, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness after the bright sunlight outside.

"Billy?" he called out. He looked around the room, trying to locate the source of the crying. It was nearly impossible with the TV on so loudly. He could never remember where the button was on the television and he knew trying to locate the remote control would be a fool's errand at that point, so he just pulled the plug from the wall. There was a brief crackle and then the noise stopped. He followed the sound of the baby crying into the kitchen, where he found Cody strapped into his car seat.

He knelt down on the floor next to the car seat and struggled with the buckles while he tried to reassure the baby in a low voice. He cursed when his fingers slipped from the last buckle and he had to wipe his hands on his pants. He hadn't realized that they were sweating so badly.

The last buckle snapped open and Tim was about to lift Cody out of the seat when small cookies rained down on him. Confused, he stood up and looked around, eventually locating the source of the problem. Jack was sitting on top of the refrigerator, tucked up into the corner against the wall so that he was barely visible. He was alternating between eating fistfuls of Cookie Crisp out of the box and tossing them at Tim.

"How'd you get up there, Jack?" Tim asked.

"Climbed," said Jack with a shrug.

Tim secured Cody back in his seat. He stood in front of the refrigerator and reached up, but while his arms were still moving, Jack decided to jump. His weight hit Tim in the chest and he staggered, nearly tripping over the car seat. He'd been hit by two-hundred pound offensive linemen but nothing was ever as scary as having a small child plummet into him and knock him off balance.

Slightly out of breath, he put Jack on the floor, just hoping the kid wouldn't do anything else dangerous or stupid before he could find Billy. He bent down quickly and freed Cody from the car seat, wincing at the smell emanating from his diaper.

"What the hell is going on here?" he muttered as he walked back toward Billy's room. The door was closed and Tim knocked and called out his brother's name before pushing the door open.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the television in the corner of the room. Billy sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, half-dressed, leaning up against the bed with his face in his hands. Tim squinted at the flickering images on the television screen and realized it was Billy and Mindy's wedding video.

"Billy? What the hell is going on?"

Billy looked up, his eyes red and puffy. He opened his mouth, but couldn't seem to speak. Instead, he shrugged sadly and went back to staring at the television. Tim looked from his miserable-looking brother to his uncomfortable-looking nephew and struggled to prioritize.

He was saved from having to make any difficult decisions when he saw diapers, a changing pad and baby wipes in a basket on the floor. Tim kicked the basket over next to Billy and knelt down on the floor. He got started on changing Cody's diaper before he spoke.

"The day care place called. Wanted to know where you were."

Billy said nothing and gave no indication that he was even aware that Tim was talking to him. Tim took a minute to focus on the diaper changing, which was absolutely disgusting. He didn't know if Cody just pooped more than Nicky because he was four months older and a good bit bigger or if it had been a long time since his diaper had been changed. Then Tim was struck by a scary thought.

"Billy, where are Amber and TJ?"

Billy didn't respond, so Tim grabbed his arm and gave him a not-so gentle shake as he repeated the question.

"Uh....school?"

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

Billy considered the question for a long minute. "School. Must be school."

"Did you drive them there?"

"Uh....no. But I think Amber said not to worry about it, that they'd walk."

Tim sighed and went to run a hand through his hair, but then looked at Cody's diaper and thought better of it. He found a plastic bag, put the used diaper in it and then got up.

"Billy, watch him for a minute. Billy!" He stood there until Billy finally looked at him.

A few minutes later, Tim had disposed of the diaper, washed his hands and face and checked that Jack hadn't wrecked the place or hurt himself. Then he went back to the bedroom, where Billy was once again absorbed by the video and Cody had crawled half-way across the room. Tim scooped up Cody and put him in his playpen in the living room. When he got back to Billy's room, he turned the television off, then turned around and faced his brother.

It was heartbreaking to see him like this. Tim scanned the room, looking for empty bottles, but he didn't see any. He didn't know which would be worse – if Billy had gotten wasted this early in the morning or if all this falling apart had happened while he was completely sober.

"Today.....this was the day I asked Mindy to marry me. Do you remember? I was such a dumb-ass, it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. No ring or anything. Everyone probably thought we'd be divorced within a year," Billy's voice trailed off and he looked down at his hands, his wedding ring still on his left hand.

Tim crouched in front of his brother, not sure how best to play this one. Coach said that sometimes, didn't matter what you did, the shot was headed for the rough. This felt like one of those times.

"Billy, how did Amber and TJ get to school?"

"They walked. They must have walked. It's only like a mile, right?"

Tim agreed half-heartedly. He wasn't worried about the distance. He was worried about a six-year old and a seven-year old alone, having to cross two major roads to get to school.

"Alright, look, I'm going to take Jack and Cody. And I'll pick Amber and TJ up from school. They're all going to stay at our house tonight and Al will bring them to school and day care in the morning. Then, if you've got your shit together tomorrow afternoon, you can have them back. It'll be like none of this happened."

Billy looked hurt, grateful and crushed. "Thanks, Timmy. I just need a day. I promise, I'll be better tomorrow."

Tim nodded and then stood up. He went into the kids' rooms and grabbed their pajamas and clothes for a couple of days. Then he got the keys for the minivan. He was about to leave the house with the kids when he felt pulled back to Billy's bedroom. Billy hadn't moved from his spot on the floor, hadn't turned the television back on. He was just sitting there, staring blankly at his hands.

"Hey, Billy?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, you going to be okay here by yourself? You know you could stay with us too," said Tim gently.

"Nah, Timmy. I'll be okay here."

"You promise?"

Billy looked up at Tim and nodded. "I promise."

Tim looked away and took a deep breath. "OK. We're going now then. See you at work tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, Timmy. Tomorrow."

Tim took one last look around the room, trying to think if there was anything more he could do. But it seemed like giving Billy some time and space to grieve alone was the right thing to do.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

After Jack and Cody were in the minivan, Tim pointed the car in the direction of his house, but then sighed and turned it around. He knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he knew for certain that TJ and Amber were safe at school.

Pulling into the school parking lot, he faced his next dilemma: what to do with Jack and Cody. Al took a hard-line against leaving kids alone in the car, even if it was only for two minutes on a freezing cold day. Had he not known about Avery, he might have pushed her about being unreasonable. But given what happened to her daughter, Tim always respected Al's feelings on the matter.

The struggle this time was that it was two kids and one of them was Jack, difficult to control even in the best circumstances. Tim got out of the car and walked around to the back, hoping to find a carrier or something that would make the trip easier. Pulling open the back door, he found a double-stroller, one of the fancy kinds where the second kid sat under the first one. Tim had never understood the arrangement, thinking that the kid in the underneath seat got a pretty bad deal – no view and possibly horrible fumes, depending on the circumstances.

For some bizarre reason, that underneath seat was one of the few places that Jack was calm and quiet. He called it his cave and Tim knew that sometimes, Billy put him in the stroller and didn't even take him anywhere, just to buy some precious quiet time.

Tim set up the stroller with minimal difficulty and got Jack out of his car seat and into his cave. Then he put Cody in the stroller, took a deep breath and headed into the school. He went into the office and tried to think of what he was going to say.

"Tim? What are you doing here?" The secretary behind the counter had a pile of dark hair and wore too much eyeliner, but her face was familiar. Tim flipped through his mental yearbook, trying to both place her and figure out how well he knew her. Judging from the way she was smiling at him, he figured he didn't know her _that_ well. J.....something with a J....Janie? Jody? Jeanie?

"Hi....Joanie. Um, would it be possible to see Amber and TJ real quick. There's a change of plans for today that I need to talk to them about."

"I don't know, Tim," she said, biting her lip and looking down. "They really don't like having the classes disrupted."

Tim leaned against the counter and gave her his best charming smile. "Yeah, I can understand that, definitely, it's just that with everything that's happened, well, they don't handle change very well and I really need to explain to them what's going on."

"Oh, yeah, I was so sorry to hear about that," she came out from behind the counter and walked around to Tim, putting a hand on his arm. "I'll take you there and have a quick word with the teacher."

Tim hoped it was a short walk because the way she was looking at him, like it was a sweltering day and he was the last ice cream on earth, was making him a little uncomfortable.

When they reached the classroom, Tim stood back from the door while Joanie went in and had a quiet word with the teacher, who nodded. A few seconds later, he was standing alone in the hallway with all of Billy's kids. Tim was so worried about what he was going to say to them, he almost forgot to be relieved that they were both safe at school.

"You guys both okay?"

"Yeah, Uncle Timmy," said Amber with a shrug, her tone clearly implying that it was a silly question. Why wouldn't they be okay?

TJ leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, staring past Tim through his too-long bangs. Tim's guilt nearly bubbled over and he tried to put a lid on it. But it was a struggle, because maybe if he had talked to Billy the way he'd told TJ he would, none of this would have happened.

"Amber, what happened this morning?"

"We were getting ready to go to school and TJ remembered he needed to get his homework signed. Then Daddy asked what the date was and looked at his watch and then he just went all funny-weird. Then it started to get late and TJ and I aren't supposed to be late, so I told Daddy we'd walk to school. I'm seven now, you know."

Tim nodded.

"Me and TJ were late anyway though. It doesn't matter, we didn't get in trouble this time."

"How did Cody get in his car seat?"

"Oh, I couldn't reach high enough to put him in his play pen and I didn't think he should be crawling around if no one was watching him."

"Good thinking. But why didn't you call me?"

Amber shrugged. "Didn't think of it."

"TJ, remember when I said you should call me if you need anything?" Tim asked.

The boy shrugged but said nothing, his eyes trying to burn holes through Tim's chest.

Tim rubbed his face and crouched down in front of them. "Look, next time, call us. We can help you – that's our job. Now... do you guys have lunches or lunch money for today?"

Both kids shook their heads.

Tim pulled out his wallet, took out two five-dollar bills and handed one to each kid. "OK, there's a little change of plans for today. Either Al or me will pick you up after school and then you're going to spend the night at our house. Okay?"

TJ shook the hair out of his face and looked at Tim, meeting his eyes for the first time. The boy gave him a half-smile and nodded.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief and hugged both kids, squeezing them maybe a little more tightly than usual. "All right, get back to class and be good, okay? See you later."


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

"Jack, I need you to be quiet, okay? Nicky might be sleeping and Al will be really, really mad if we wake him up. Can you be quiet?"

Jack pulled at the straps of his car seat, but Tim wasn't letting him out until he promised to be quiet. Tim felt silly, bargaining with a three-year old, but he was nervous about telling Al what happened. He was afraid she might be mad at him for taking the kids without talking to her first.

Jack finally agreed to be quiet and Tim unbuckled him from the seat, realizing the flaw in his plan as soon as Jack's feet hit the ground and he went running to the front door. Maybe he should have gotten Cody out first, but then he'd have had only one hand free. An extra arm or two would really be useful. Or maybe one of those grippy tails, like a monkey.

Tim sighed and got Cody out of the car seat as quickly as he could, then he hurried up to the door. At least Jack had the good sense to wait at the door and not open it or, worse, ring the door bell.

"Jack, no running, no yelling, no shouting, no jumping on the furniture, no jumping on anything, really, no skipping, no climbing....." Tim trailed off, trying to think of anything he was missing out.

Jack stuck out his lower lip. "No fun."

"Exactly Jack, no fun." Tim opened the door and walked into the house, calling Al's name as he did.

"I'm in the living room," she called back to him.

"Be there in a second," shouted Tim. He took Jack into the TV room, settled him in with a Disney DVD and then headed to the living room, still carrying Cody. He found Al on the couch, reading _The Gathering_, her eyes red.

"Nicky sleeping?"

"Yeah, just put him down for his nap. Um....it's great to see you and all, but why've you got Cody with you?" asked Al, putting her book down on the end table.

Tim sat down next to her. Cody held out his arms to her and smiled, so Tim handed him over. Al smiled back at Cody and settled him into her lap. Her expression was equal parts confusion and concern.

Tim leaned back against the couch, wishing that he could just sink into it and get swallowed up and transported somewhere else. He stretched his arm across the back of the couch and let his hand fall onto Al's shoulder.

"I hope it's okay, but Billy's not feeling too good today and I said we'd keep the kids for the night."

"Is this the not-feeling-too-good that comes from drinking too much?" asked Al.

Tim decided to ignore the peevish tone in her voice. "No...he just, well, kinda lost it....when he realized today was the day he proposed to Mindy."

"What happened?" Al' voice had softened, her irritation gone.

"The day care place called the garage to say that Jack and Cody weren't there, so I went to Billy's. He was a mess, Al, a total mess, watching their wedding video."

She looked at Tim, then looked down. "Was he drinking?"

She'd asked the question quietly, like it hurt to say the words. Tim sighed. "No, he wasn't. And that made it worse – that he could just fall to pieces like that. Jesus, Al, I thought he was doing better. I really did."

"Timmy, it's not a straight line, you know?" Al leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then stood up. "Cody's nearly asleep here, I'm just going to put him in the play pen. Back in a minute."

Tim watched her go, then closed his eyes. When Al came back, she sat practically in his lap, her back against his chest, her curls tickling his face and neck. He put his arms around her and she took his hands, lacing their fingers together.

"Are TJ and Amber at school? Are they okay?"

"Yeah. When she realized they were going to be late and Billy wasn't going anywhere, Amber decided that they'd walk to school. You know, she even strapped Cody into his car seat because she didn't think he should be crawling around if no one was watching him."

Al squeezed Tim's hand. "She's a smart kid....I wish they'd called us."

"Yeah. I stopped at the school to make sure they'd gotten there safely and told them that next time, they have to call us." Tim closed his eyes. He knew he should probably get back to work, but he didn't want to move. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Tim's thoughts spinning in fifty different directions.

"I hope you're not mad," Tim said, his voice rough.

"Why would I be mad?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You know, that I took the kids and said we'd keep them for tonight and didn't even ask you."

"Timmy, you did exactly what you're supposed to do. You remember, Billy asked us to be their guardians – that means we have an extra responsibility to those kids."

"Yeah, but I thought that was just if....you know....if Billy died too." Tim didn't even want to think those words, let alone say them out loud.

"Well, yeah, but it's also if Billy can't take care of them. If he keeps sliding back like today, we might need to talk to the lawyer about stepping in."

"God, we can't do that to Billy. The kids are all he has left. Do you know what would happen to him if they were gone?" Tim felt panicked at the thought.

"It's okay, Timmy. It's okay. It wouldn't be forever, and yeah, it would be horrible for Billy, but what if we did nothing and then one of the kid got hurt or worse?"

Tim closed his eyes. He didn't understand sometimes why life had to be like this, why things sometimes got worse before they got even worse. It wasn't fair.

"Look, Al, this was just once and nothing happened. And next time, if there even is a next time, Amber or TJ will call us. We don't have to do anything yet. We'd just be making things worse."

Al sighed. "Okay.....if you're sure about this."

"I'm sure," said Tim, refusing to let his mind go in any direction that would make him less sure.

"Do you want me to go talk to him?"

"I dunno. Your talks with him recently haven't seemed to go all that good."

"I guess not. But he wasn't ready to hear what I was saying then. Maybe he's ready now."

"I can talk to him." Tim tried to sound more confident than he felt. Truth was, he had no idea what to say.

"You could, but you're not in the club."

"The club?"

"Yeah. The club for people who've accidently killed people they love. It's a really shitty club, but no one else can really understand what it's like." Al's voice was quiet and even.

"If you think you can talk to him without getting into a fight...." Tim's voice trailed off.

"I think I can." She pulled his arms more tightly around her.

Tim pressed a kiss onto the top of her head and groaned as he looked at the clock. "I really should get back to work. I've been fighting with this damn transmission all morning and need to get it finished before Amber and TJ need to be picked up this afternoon.

Al squirmed around so she could look at him. Her eyes had a spark that he hadn't seen in some time. "Timmy, do you think I could go in and try to fix it. I _really_ miss fixing cars and I feel like I'm forgetting everything I've ever learned."

Tim grinned. She was so cute when she got all excited about something. "Knock yourself out. Just remember to pick up Amber and TJ, okay? You can bring them back to the garage if you're not finished. Billy usually just lets them watch TV in the waiting room until he's ready to go home."

Al smiled. "I bet I can get it fixed _and_ stop by to talk to Billy before it's time to get the kids from school."

"Yeah? I'll take that bet," said Tim with a smirk as he leaned into her ear to whisper what he wanted to bet. The distraction felt good, a little bit of the old normal in a sea of the new normal.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim found, to his surprise, that he enjoyed watching the kids that afternoon. The weather was nice enough that he was able to take them and George for a walk over to Jay and Lyla's house, where George scared one of the workers, which made Jack laugh hysterically.

He even got Jack to sit at the table and color pictures, which is what they were doing when Al arrived home with Amber and TJ. Nicky was in the swing, Cody was in the playpen, and the mood in the kitchen was relaxed and peaceful.

"Wow, I hate to say it, but I half expected to find the place wrecked," said Al with a smile as she came into the kitchen.

"Nope, we had a great time here. You get that transmission fixed?" Tim pushed his chair away from the table and motioned for Al to come over.

She sat in his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned. "In less than an hour."

"But that's because I did all the hard work first, right?" asked Tim, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"Yeah, that's exactly it," she said, her tone and sarcastic smile indicating that she meant exactly the opposite of her words.

"You going to tell me what the problem was?"

"What? And ruin my job security? No way."

"I hate to threaten, but I will tickle it out of you."

Al slid off his lap and slipped away, ducking under his arms and twisting out of reach with a laugh.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and concerned. "You get a chance to talk to Billy?"

She nodded, then looked at Jack before looking back at Tim. "Later, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Tim, wishing she'd at least give him a hint or a preview.

Al stopped the swing and picked up Nicky, talking to him and telling him how much she missed him. Then she went back over to Tim. "I think it's going to be okay. I can't make any promises, but ...look, we'll talk later."

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Tim had managed to forget how much work it was to look after five kids. It seemed like every time he turned around, someone needed something. He and Al split up the bed time duties. She took care of Jack and Cody, then he took care of Amber and TJ. Amber ended up telling him some big long story he could barely follow, about her best friend Sarah and her second best friend Carrie and some mean boys from the second grade.

When Tim had finally escaped the never-ending story and gone to the living room, Al wasn't there, but the baby monitor was. He turned on the monitor and could hear that she was putting Nicky to bed. He smiled as he sat down on the couch. She really couldn't sing very well, but it never stopped her from trying. Listening to her on the monitor reminded him of the first time they babysat for Amber and TJ, the weekend that ended up sort of, in a weird way, being their first date.

A few minutes later, Al came out and stood behind Tim. She put her hands on his shoulders and started to give him a back rub, her fingers drawn to his sore spots like magnets. He could barely think when she did this.

"You tired?" he asked.

"Exhausted, but in a good way. It felt great to be back at work."

Tim smiled awkwardly. They hadn't really talked about what happened next in terms of Al and work. The plan before Nicky was born was that she'd go back to work when she was ready, whenever that happened to be. Al was ambivalent about day care, though, so Mindy had volunteered to watch him. (_Another baby? No problem. He'll mostly sleep anyway. And when he's walking, he and Cody can chase each other around and tire each other out._)

"So, um, do you want to go back to work?" he asked. He knew he should probably ask her to stop with the back rub if they were going to have a serious conversation, but it felt so good, he couldn't.

"Not quite yet. Maybe after Christmas. We'll burn that bridge when we come to it. There was one thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"Billy?" he asked.

"No, not Billy. There's not much more to say about Billy, really. You can expect him at work tomorrow and can talk to him yourself then."

Tim nodded. "If this is something serious, then you probably need to stop doing that."

Al laughed and came around the couch to sit next to him. "Can I sit next to you? Or do you want me to sit over there?"

Tim put an arm around her and pulled her close. "You're fine right where you are."

Al held his hand and Tim could feel her fidgeting slightly, which was never a good sign..

"Just spit it out, whatever it is. We'll figure it out," he said as he kissed the top of her head.

"I want to go to Minnesota for a couple of weeks, over Thanksgiving, to visit my family."

"Okay," said Tim slowly, struggling to get his bearings. "Minnesota, I'm cool with that. Thanksgiving, family, no problems there. It's just....a couple of weeks? Really? Isn't that kind of a long time?"

Al shrugged. "Maybe not that long. I was going to get a refundable ticket so if I wanted to go home sooner, I could."

"But, if you wanted to stay longer, you also could?"

"Yeah, that's another way to look at it."

"Al, I know things have been tough recently, but they're getting better, really." Tim didn't understand why she wanted to leave.

"I know that. It's just I miss my family, you know? Charlie's going to be there for a few weeks before he takes a new assignment in Singapore. Mickey told me that Dad has a girlfriend, which is a first, so I need to meet her. And, you know, everyone wants to see Nicky."

It hadn't occurred to Tim that Nicky would be going too. He knew it only made sense, but it still made him sad to think how much he would miss them both.

"You can come too, you know? Everyone would love to see you too."

Tim shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine here. Billy might need me anyway."

"I'm sorry, Timmy, but I really need this." She leaned back and kissed his cheek, then pressed her forehead against his.

"I know you do. I'll be fine for a couple of weeks. I promise not to torch the place."

Al laughed.

"So, when are you leaving?"

"I was thinking the weekend before Thanksgiving and then probably coming back the weekend after. Is that okay?"

Tim took a deep breath and tried to sound as convincing as possible. "That's fine."

"Thank you. I'll miss you, probably so much that I'll come home early," she said softly as she kissed his neck.

"Well, I'll be at the airport waiting whenever you tell me to be there," he said, trying to think more about how nice it would be when she came home than about how hard it would be when she left.

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The next morning, Tim dropped Amber and TJ off at school, telling them that either he or Billy would pick them up in the afternoon. Then he dropped Cody and Jack off at the day care center. It was the first time he'd ever actually set foot in the place and he found it horribly depressing, especially the row of cribs lining one wall.

It was like a baby jail and it made him think that he really didn't want Nicky growing up there. But he knew that being a stay-at-home mom was probably never going to be Al's thing. He didn't understand why not – it seemed like a pretty good deal to him, getting to spend all your time with your kid, or even better, your kids. He wondered how hard Billy would laugh at him if he said he was quitting the garage to stay home with Nicky.

Billy came into work at 9am sharp. He was clean-shaven and clear-eyed. The first thing he did when he arrived was call Tim into his office.

Tim went back there hesitantly and stood awkwardly in the door way.

"C'mon, Timmy, get your ass in here and close the door behind you," said Billy.

Tim did as he was told, not sure if Billy was going to yell at him. Billy shuffled some papers around on his desk and then finally looked up.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I know I probably scared the kids and you and I'm going to try hard to not let that happen again."

Tim blinked, unsure of what to say. "It's okay, Billy."

"No, Tim, it's not. I don't want that kind of life for my kids and you were right to get them out of there. That must have been hard."

Tim shrugged and felt incredibly uncomfortable. "Um, can I get back to work?"

Billy nodded. "Oh yeah, sure, I'm busy here too, no problem."

Tim stood up and walked to the door, turning back before he opened it. "I'm glad you seem better today, Billy and I'm really sorry that this sucks so bad."

"Thanks, Timmy. Your wife assures me that it will suck a little less, eventually. I hope to god she's right. I mean.....she seems like a smart girl and all, but then she went and married you, so I just don't know if I can trust her judgement.

Tim grinned and shook his head. Billy. Joking around. That had to be a good sign.


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Al's flight to Minnesota was on Sunday afternoon. Tim was up early on Sunday, a sort of

dread settling into him. He tried hard not to think about it, but the packed suitcase in the corner of the room made that difficult.

They didn't have to leave until noon, so he and Al took George and Nicky for a walk. It was nice, but Tim didn't seem to be able to carry on a conversation, so Al squeezed his hand and stopped trying. It was a pleasant morning, or at least as pleasant a morning as you could have under the circumstances.

At the airport, Tim left Al in the check-in line, telling her he'd be right back. He went over to the information desk, clutching a piece of paper with some details scribbled down on it. Earlier in the week, Tim had called to find out what he needed to do to be able to accompany his wife all the way back to the gate. A few minutes later, Tim left the desk with a special pass to go through security even though he wasn't a ticketed passenger.

He waited off to the side of the check-in line until Al came out, pushing the stroller and holding her tickets. Tim had insisted that she buy a seat for the baby so she'd be able to keep him in the car seat for the flights.

"You all set?" he asked.

Al nodded and they started to walk toward the security checkpoint.

"Are you sure you don't need the travel crib? I put it in the car just in case," asked Tim.

"I'm sure. My brother Mickey's got an extra crib from when they had the twins. He's already set it up at Dad's house."

Al stopped about twenty feet from the security line.

"I suppose we should say goodbye now," said Al reluctantly. She had seemed a lot more excited about this trip when it was just a plan.

Tim smiled and pulled out his pass. "I got special permission to go all the way to the gate, in case you need help."

"Timmy, how?"

"I called them a few days ago and asked what I needed to do. It was pretty easy, although I did have to make you sound a lot weaker than you actually are, so don't look too healthy, okay?"

A few minutes later, they were on the other side of security, walking to the gate. Tim insisted on staying with them until they boarded the flight, so they sat down. He took Nicky out of the stroller and held him. He was aware of Al's hand on the back of his neck and her head pressed against his arm, but they didn't really talk much.

"You should have let me drive you to Dallas. I'm worried about you changing planes," he finally said as he watched an airline employee shuffle around behind the desk, getting ready to make the boarding announcement.

"That's four hours away. You wouldn't really want to spend all day driving. And when I come back, I sure won't want to spend four hours in the car."

Tim nodded and slipped back into his pensive silence. Nicky was awake and watching him. Tim loved his eyes, their two different colors and the way they widened in surprise at nearly everything.

The intercom crackled and soon they were listening to the announcement that boarding would start soon. Tim pulled the stroller over in front of him and buckled Nicky into it. He held out his hand to Al, helped her out of her seat. She brushed the hair off his face and put her hands on his shoulders.

"The time'll go fast. You'll barely notice we're gone. Think of all the sleep you're going to get," she said, her light tone as forced as her pained smile.

"You're coming back, right?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He hated asking it. There was no way to ask that question without sounding pathetic.

Al looked sad. Deeply and irrevocably sad. "I hate that you have to ask me that," she finally said, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Tim looked down. "Sorry....it's just....."

"Timmy," she interrupted him gently. "I get why you asked it, I'm just sad for you, that you can't help but think that if someone goes away for a while, they're not coming back."

He shrugged and continued looking down at the dirty airport carpet.

"Timmy, I don't know how to break this to you, but you're kinda stuck with me. And if you're really that miserable here alone, you can always come up to Minnesota – everyone would love to see you."

Tim smiled. "I can live with being stuck with you. But I sorta need to stay here. Besides, Minnesota is freezing."

"I could keep you warm," she said with a suggestive smile.

Tim smiled and held her close, then the intercom announced the priority boarding.

Al kissed Tim before she stepped away. "That's us. You'll be fine. Just remember, no rally girls and make sure you clean up all the beer bottles before I get back."

Tim smiled, then leaned down and said goodbye to his son. He stood up slowly and walked them both over to desk. He folded his arms and watched them walk down the long hallway toward the plane, stepping away only when they were out of sight.

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Without Al and Nicky, the time passed quite slowly. Al called him every night and Tim looked forward to these calls, even though they always felt too short. It sounded like she was having a great time although she missed him and was considering cutting her trip short. Nothing would make him happier than to have her home sooner, but he didn't want her to regret leaving, especially since it might be a long time before she got to see her brother Charlie again.

Tim was dreading the four-day Thanksgiving weekend. He had plans to go over to Billy's on Thanksgiving for the traditional Riggins' holiday of football, pizza, and beer and he was taking TJ fishing on Saturday. Beyond that, he wasn't sure how he was going to fill all of those lonely hours.

Wednesday night, he was in the kitchen, getting another beer, when the doorbell rang. Tim looked at George, who started barking.

"Some watchdog you are. You're supposed to warn me before they get to the house," said Tim as he walked over to the door.

He pulled it open and was surprised to find Tyra standing there with a small suitcase. He felt a weird sense of reverse deja vu and resisted the urge to ask her what she was doing there, with all her stuff, right there, the way she had asked him when he'd shown up on her doorstep that time.

"Tyra?"

"Yeah, who the hell else would it be. You going to let me in or you going to stand there looking stupid?" she asked. Turned out there was a third option, which was her pushing past him into the house before he could say a word.

"Where's Al?" she asked, looking around like she might be hiding behind the furniture or something.

"Minnesota," said Tim as he closed the door.

"Are you kidding me?"

Tim shook his head, unsure why Tyra thought he'd joke about something like that.

"Well, shit. She invited me here for Thanksgiving."

"Sorry about that – when did she ask you?"

"Like the beginning of October."

"Shit....yeah, she decided two weeks ago that she needed to go to Minnesota. Charlie's moving to Singapore for a while. She must have forgot about inviting you – she calls it Mommy Brain – forgetting stuff all the time."

"It happens a lot then?" Tyra asked, sitting down on the couch in the living room.

Tim shrugged. "Yeah....well, like not excessively, but the lack of sleep will do it to you. You want a beer or something?"

"Nah, I should probably drive back to Austin. If I leave now, I'll be there before midnight."

"You can still stay. We have the guest room – I can even put clean sheets on the bed."

"Mmm, tempting, but no."

"The kids would love to see you. Amber talks about you all the time."

"I'm not cooking dinner for y'all tomorrow," Tyra warned.

Tim rolled his eyes. "We don't expect you to. That's what Dominos is for."

"And you promise the sheets are clean?"

"Yes, Tyra, I promise," said Tim, beginning to regret encouraging her to stay.

"Okay, why don't you get me that beer then?"

Tim went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers, then returned to the living room.

"So....how are you doing?" Tim asked.

Tyra shrugged. "I'm still alive, still putting one foot in front of the other. That's all you can hope for some days."

"Is that a Collette saying? Al says nearly the same thing."

"No. I think it's just the universal mantra of shit magnets everywhere," Tyra took a sip of beer and looked around the room. "How's Billy doing?"

"Okay, I think. Kind of. Hard to tell, really," said Tim, aware that he wasn't making a lot of sense. He wasn't sure what to say to Tyra, how much he could or should tell her, but then he realized that Amber or TJ might mention day they had to walk to school.

"There was a small.....incident. Billy had a really hard time a few weeks ago when he realized it was the day he proposed....he forgot to take the younger kids to day care and TJ and Amber walked to school. It was fine, everyone was fine, and the kids all spent the night at our house to give Billy a chance to pull himself together."

Tyra sighed. "He's lucky I don't live here. I would have totally kicked his ass."

"I knew you would. But that's not what he needs right now. He's doing fine and we're looking out for the kids. Everything's going to be fine," said Tim, not sure who he was trying to convince more – Tyra or himself.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim wanted to take George for a walk before he and Tyra went over to Billy's for the day, so Tyra agreed to go with him. The day was chilly and crisp, the sun out but not providing much in the way of warmth. Tyra walked with her hands jammed in the pockets of her coat.

"So....how's Landry?" asked Tim as they walked along the edge of the lake, watching George snuffle through piles of leaves.

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him yourself," replied Tyra with a shrug.

"You don't see him much anymore?"

"No. In fact, if his dad hadn't sent him over after the accident, who knows when I would've seen him next."

"Don't you get lonely up there in Austin?" asked Tim.

Tyra laughed. "I do have friends, Tim. You know, it's not like all your friends are handed out where you're born and if you move away then you're out of luck."

Tim kicked at a rock.

"And...well....I've been seeing someone on and off for about two years now and it's finally getting serious."

"Two years and you're only just telling me now?" asked Tim, nudging her with his elbow.

"I wanted to wait until I was sure it would stick. No point telling y'all about all the dates I go on that end up as nothing."

"But two years? And you've been on and off. Sounds like how we were. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's nothing like us. These off periods have nothing to do with rally girls. He just traveled a lot for his job, so we didn't get to see each other very much."

Tim nodded.

"Anyway, he was in France when Mindy died and couldn't get back. I guess he felt bad about it because he took a job in Austin that has almost no travel and we're talking about moving in together."

"Wow....moving in....big step. So, does he make you happy?"

Tyra smiled and looked down. "Very. I don't know how I'd've gotten through the last two months without him."

"So, this guy have a name or do I have to make one up?"

"He has a name – Jean-Luc."

"Sounds foreign," said Tim.

"Great observation, genius. He's French. And, as long as I'm telling you all my secrets today – he's taking me to France to meet his family at Christmas."

"For real? You don't even speak French."

Tyra rolled her eyes and rattled off a string of foreign words that all ran together.

"That was French?"

"Oui."

Tim shook his head. "Where did you learn that"

"High school, college, you know the normal places where people go to learn things."

"I thought you took Spanish In fact, I could've sworn you were in my freshman Spanish class," said Tim, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Nope. I took French."

Tim ran his hand through his hair. "High school....That seems like another lifetime."

"That's because it was," said Tyra with simple certainty. The followed the path in silence for a few minutes.

"Why did you put up with my shit for so long?" Tim finally asked. It was a question that had puzzled him for years.

"Because you were good in bed," said Tyra with a smirk.

"Seriously? That was the only reason?" Tim didn't know whether to be proud or offended.

"No, that's not the only reason....I don't know all the reasons, Tim. I guess mostly, it was just easy. Comfortable. I always knew what I was going to get from you, the good and the bad. Why'd you keep coming back?"

"Because you were one of the few people who'd always tell me the truth, and usually in the harshest possible way.

Tyra laughed. "And you considered this a good thing?"

"Definitely. You remember that time I was complaining about Mrs. Taylor busting me for having the rally girls do my homework? You called me an ungrateful, ignorant jackass."

"Yeah, I remember that. I think you called me more when we were finally broken up for good than you had in the whole nearly two years we were together."

"You and Billy were the only people who ever talked to me that way. And I needed it."

"And now you have my cousin to do that for you."

"Well, except for the harsh part, yeah."

Tyra looked at him sideways, an appraising look on her face. "Look at you....all grown-up now. Everyone figured you'd have a kid but not the right way, not like this."

"I know," said Tim with a small smile.

When they reached the second boat dock, they turned and walked up the road toward Lyla and Jason's house, which was now finished but empty.

"So Lyla Garrity is really going to be your neighbor?"

"Yeah." Tim shrugged.

"And Al is okay with this?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"She's a better woman than I am."

Tim smiled. "I am so not touching that statement."

"Seriously though," said Tyra. "You don't think it's weird to live next door to your ex-girlfriend?"

Tim considered the question and then shook his head. "I don't think of it that way. It's living next door to my best friend and his wife."

"Just like you always wanted," said Tyra, her voice soft and wistful.

"Yeah.....even though it didn't happen exactly the way I expected."

Tyra was quiet for a minute, watching George lope around between the trees. "You know, I never expected to be part of this, even when you talked about it back then, I knew there was no place for me.....But I'm glad you found someone who could fit into your plans."

Tim didn't quite know what to say to that, so he smiled at Tyra to let her know that he'd heard her. When his house was in sight, Tim looked at his watch. "We can probably head over to Billy's now. You ready for it?"

Tyra smiled. "As ready as I'm ever going to be."

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Thanksgiving at Billy's went smoothly, better than Tim could have hoped for. Tyra was somewhat distant with Billy and he was equally uncomfortable with her. Tim suspected that Tyra's anger was rooted deep in her and, of course, you could read the guilt on Billy's face.

The kids filled in the space between them, especially Amber, who was thrilled to have another girl around. When Tim had pointed out that Al was also a girl, Amber had considered it and then said "Yeah, sort of. But how much of a girl can you really be if you have a boy's name?"

On Friday, Tyra took Amber out, since the girl had been complaining about TJ's outings with Uncle Timmy. (To which TJ had rolled his eyes and said "You don't even like fishing, so why are you crying about not getting to go?") Tyra went back to Austin on Saturday and Tim was sad to see her go. Hanging out with Tyra was comfortable and relaxing. She was nearly like a sister, at this point.

Where Lyla sometimes felt like a mistake he could end up making again, Tyra felt like a dream he couldn't quite remember. His history with Lyla seemed to float on top of his conscience, like an oil slick on a river. Lyla was complicated, all tangled up with Six and Tim's best and worst memories. Tyra, though, Tyra was simple and simple was good.

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Six came over on Sunday to check on the new house. Tim met him out front and walked through the place with him, all wide hallways, hardwood floors and fresh paint.

"Lyla wasn't sure about that color, but I really liked it," said Jay when they paused in the bright yellow guestroom.

"It's gonna wake up your guests, that's for sure," said Tim, blinking.

"Well, with any luck, we'll be repainting it when Lyla's done with school."

Tim raised an eyebrow and waited for Jay to continue.

"You know...Changing it into a nursery. I hope. What about you guys? Planning to have any more kids?"

Tim shrugged. "We haven't talked about it. After what happened when Nicky was born, I don't really know if Al should try to have another."

"What did the doctor say?" asked Jay as he wheeled out of the room, Tim trailing behind him.

"I don't know. We haven't really talked about that either. I was so happy she was alive and then, you know, Mindy...And then things were sort of crazy with Billy and the kids living in the house, so I didn't get a chance to ask about her doctor's appointments."

"Yeah, still, Timmy, you gotta talk about this stuff. Everything okay with you guys?"

"Yeah, it's great," said Tim, standing in the empty living room and looking up at the cathedral ceilings. "Well, maybe not _great_, but it's as good as it's gonna be right now."

"Why didn't you go with Al to Minnesota?"

"You know....work, Billy....that sort of thing."

"You must feel like you're getting pulled in two different directions. Taking care of your wife and kid but then there's your brother and his kids."

Tim ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It hasn't been easy, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Don't be afraid to ask for help, Timmy."

"I won't."

"I mean it," said Jason, as he headed toward the front door.

"I got it, Six. I got it. God, have you always been so damn bossy?" said Tim as he pulled open the front door.

"No," said Jason with a crooked grin. "I used to be worse."

Tim shook his head and followed Jay out the door. He was looking forward to spending a relaxing afternoon with his best friend, drinking beer and watching football, and he hoped the heart-to-heart talks were done for awhile. There'd been too many of them in the last few days and he was tired of talking.


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The second week without Al and Nicky was much more difficult than the first. Al was hopping between her various brothers' houses so she didn't call as much. Tim missed the sound of her voice and her stories about her brothers.

The house felt empty and lonely without her. Tim let George sleep in the bed, even though he knew Al wouldn't be happy if she ever found out. He wasn't sure why he did it. Was because he was sick of looking at George's mournful eyes every night? Or did he think it would help him sleep better by giving the illusion that Al was there?

If the latter was his reason, then it definitely didn't work. George was much "taller" than Al when he stretched out, he snored something awful and the way he twitched and thrashed in his dreams shook the whole bed.

That second week seemed like a month and Tim was happy when Sunday finally arrived. He got a pass to meet Al at the gate and he waited there impatiently as her flight from Dallas was delayed two hours. When the plane finally arrived, he stood back and watched the passengers come out of the long hallway, craning his neck to try to spot Al. Her shortness was cute but it made finding her in a crowd a real pain in the ass.

The flood of passengers slowed to a trickle. Tim rocked on the balls of his feet, wanting to pace, but trying to stay calm. Al had to be on that plane because she would have called him if her plans had changed. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Maybe he was at the wrong gate, he thought as he compared the number he'd written on his hand to the number on the board. He was definitely in the right place. He kept his eyes glued on the hallway, willing her to appear.

When the pilot and co-pilot walked off the plane, Tim felt a certain dread. She wasn't coming back. He pulled out his phone and checked for messages or texts. Nothing. He called her, only to have it go straight to voicemail.

Tim sunk into the closest chair and hunched forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think of what he should do next. Then he heard a familiar voice.

"There's your daddy, Nicky. I told you he'd be right here," Al said, smiling. Tim was up instantly, closing the distance between them with long strides. When he reached her, she was in the middle of saying something, but he just leaned down and kissed her, then pulled her in for a hug tight enough to make her protest that she was getting crushed.

"I'm sorry, Timmy," said Al. "Nicky finished his bottle on the descent but his ears still hadn't popped so he was really upset. You know how there's that line that once he crosses it, he's so upset he'd not going to eat and he's just going to scream for ages?"

Tim nodded. They were lucky that their son had only crossed that line a few times.

"A very nice flight attendant let me stay on the plane and feed him while they were doing whatever it is they do after a flight. And since he's not screaming now, I guess it worked." Al ran her hands down Tim's arms and then stepped back, taking a good look at his face.

"You thought I wasn't coming back," said Al.

Tim looked down. He thought he could hear sadness and hurt in her voice and he felt bad for doubting her. "I was fine until the pilots came through, then I started to worry."

"I told you that you were stuck with me and I meant it."

"And I told you I could definitely live with that." He squeezed her hand and then knelt down in front of the stroller, unbuckled Nicky and easily lifted him out. He kept one hand lightly on Al's back as they walked toward the baggage area. Tim reluctantly put Nicky back in the stroller so he could get the bags.

After the bags were loaded into the back of the Passat and Nicky was secured into his car seat, Tim looked at Al and smiled. "So, how was your trip?"

It was a simple sentence that sent Al into hours of stories about her family. She had plenty to say, especially about her father's girlfriend. Al didn't like her at all. (_And you know what really pisses me off? My dad told her my full name. So she tried calling me that a few times. Can you believe that shit?)_

Tim kept a hand on her the whole drive home, as though he needed proof that she really was there. He enjoyed the stories, but mostly, he just enjoyed being with her while their son slept in the back seat.

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Two weeks before Christmas, Al and Tim went to the mall in Midland to do their Christmas shopping. Nicky was with them, happily kicking his legs and taking everything in with his big eyes. Tim pushed the stroller, trailing behind Al with her lists and plans. Tim was puzzled when she went into an art supply store and headed toward the journals and sketchbooks.

"Why are we in here? It smells like paint in here," asked Tim.

"TJ...he draws comic book stories," said Al as she picked up a sketchbook and flipped through it

"Really?"

"Yeah, usually on pieces of scrap paper or the back of his homework, so I think he probably loses them pretty quickly."

"How did you know about them then?" asked Tim, repositioning the stroller so some people could pass by.

"He's shown them to me a few times when I was putting him to bed."

"He's never shown them to me," said Tim, feeling a little hurt and left out. "The only bed time stories I get are the first grade soap operas from Amber."

"Oh, you mean the ones that you need a scorecard to keep track of the kids and there's a lot of 'and then he was like...and then she went'...those sorts of stories?"

Tim nodded. "Exactly. And they involve _a lot_ of talking. That seems to be all girls do."

"Pretty much. Don't feel bad about TJ though. These stories, they're all superhero stories, and....well....the hero is pretty much a mixture of you and Batman."

"Me? Really?"

"Really," said Al with a grin as she picked out a sketchbook and then moved over to the colored pencils. After making her selection and paying for the purchases, they headed for the toy store, which was a riot of noise and activity. It seemed like some smart-ass kid had gone through and turned on every electronic toy. Tim seriously felt like his head might explode.

Al headed for the Barbie aisle and Tim thought about Christmas.

"Timmy, are you okay?" asked Al.

"Yeah....I'm just worried about Billy."

"Any particular reason or just in general?"

Tim shrugged. "Well, you know, the holidays can be hard anyway an I'm just worried about what might happen, this being his first Christmas without Mindy and all."

Al took his hand and squeezed it. Tim looked down and tried to smile at her, but couldn't quite manage it.

"It'll be okay," said Al quietly, but the words sounded hollow. At this point, the only thing that Tim knew was that things rarely went the way you expected and that there was usually nothing you could do about it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the sweet reviews. I really appreciate them and am quite happy (and surprised :)) to have collected so many.**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Tim watched Billy pretty closely over the next week and a half, searching for any signs of trouble, but he seemed okay. He was coming into work on time and getting things done. Tim stopped by the house at random times and it was clean and the kids looked good. Tim even casually asked if he wanted to go Christmas shopping, but Billy had said he'd already taken care of it.

Billy decided to close the garage for the two weeks of Christmas break, which made Tim happy, since it gave him more time to spend with Nicky and Al. Nicky had recently started smiling, laughing and grabbing things. The boy had a strong grip and a tendency to hang on, which Tim learned to his detriment the first time Nicky got a fistful of his hair.

A couple of days before Christmas, Tim heard Al get up around six to feed Nicky, then she went back to bed. When Tim woke up at nine, she was still sleeping, which was quite unusual for her. Nicky was awake in his crib, softly cooing, waving his arms and kicking his legs.

Tim went over to the crib and talked to Nicky softly. The baby stopped what he was doing and stared at Tim intently, perfectly still, before he broke out in a wide, drooly grin. A quick diaper change later and Tim was in the kitchen getting some cereal, which he took out into the living room. He put a blanket on the floor, placed Nicky on his belly in the middle of the blanket and then sat down on the floor to eat his cereal and watch his son.

Tim didn't understand how they could have 100 cable channels but he could still sit for hours and watch Nicky do baby push-ups or kick his legs around or chew on his hands. When he'd finished his cereal, Tim talked to Nicky, which was something he read about in one of the baby books Al got. He had to admit he felt a little silly the first couple of times he did it, but now it was just a habit.

Nicky began co-ordinating the movement of his arms and legs. It fascinated Tim, watching the baby try to figure out how his limbs worked. Within several minutes, Nicky managed to flip himself over. Tim held his breath for a second, afraid the baby had either hurt or startled himself, but then Nicky started to laugh and kick his legs.

"Good one, Nicky, Your first time rolling over. Nice," said Tim, picking the baby up to congratulate him. Nicky responded by grabbing a fistful of Tim's hair and trying to put it in his mouth. Tim deftly removed his hair from his son's grasp. In doing so, he noticed that Nicky was a little snuffley, like maybe he was getting a cold.

Tim put Nicky back on the floor on his belly and watched him go through the same process to flip himself over. Then Tim picked up a rattle and amused himself by getting Nicky to reach for it.

Al wandered into the living room, still wearing her pajamas. She sat down in the chair and smiled sleepily at Tim.

"There a reason you're sitting way over there? You're not wanting to have A Talk, are you?" he asked, trying to go for a joking tone but unable to hide the dread that A Talk would entail.

"Remember that cold I was fighting off for the last week or so?" asked Al, her voice gravelly, like a cough was stuck in her throat.

"Yeah?"

"Well, it won. You might want to stay clear for a few days."

Tim shrugged. "I've probably got your germs already. I thought Nicky seemed a little snuffley this morning."

"His appetite was fine – has he been fussy?"

"No, he's been pretty happy."

"Then he's probably just starting to come down with it. We'll have to keep an eye on him."

"Yeah...oh, hey, watch this," said Tim as he rolled Nicky over onto his belly. It took markedly less time for Nicky to roll onto his back.

Al grinned. "Won't be long now before he'll be zipping everywhere and we'll be struggling to keep up."

Tim often felt like he and Al had completely different ideas about time. He felt like it was going to take ages, a lifetime, until Nicky was old enough to take fishing or start playing football. It wasn't that Tim didn't love watching his baby try to make sense of the world. It was just that Tim couldn't wait to be able to do things with his son, to be a real Dad.

Nicky began to make the little whimpery sounds that meant he was hungry.

"Hand him here, please," said Al.

"I can make him a bottle," Tim replied.

"Why would you do that when I'm right here?"

Tim picked up Nicky and stood up carefully. "You're sick – is that really a good idea?"

"Yeah, as long as I'm not dehydrated. My immune system is already working on this cold and the antibodies will pass to him through the milk. It's like magic."

Tim handed Nicky over to Al, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to the store to get you some Gatorade. You need anything else?"

"Gatorade?"

"Yeah, so you don't get dehydrated."

Al smiled. "You're very sweet. Make sure it's the blue flavor."

Tim shuddered. "Why do you insist on drinking that crap? It looks like you're drinking antifreeze."

"Blue's my favorite color and my favorite flavor."

Tim grinned and shook his head. "Oh no, I am not having this discussion again. Blue is not a flavor."

Al picked up a pillow and tossed it at Tim, who caught it and dropped it on the couch. He thought about throwing it back, but he didn't want to risk breaking anything.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

By evening, Nicky's snuffling had turned into sneezing and coughing. Tim was worried about him. He was also worried about Al, who had pretty much spent the whole day either on the couch or in bed with a cough that sounded like a rattling screen door.

Tim spent the night in the rocker next to Nicky's crib, barely sleeping. Apart from a mild reaction to the shots he got at two-months, this was the first time the baby had been sick. Al had encouraged Tim to go to sleep in the bed like a normal person, the crib was right in their room, after all, but Tim felt better being right next to Nicky.

The baby probably got more sleep than Tim that night, which wasn't saying much. In the morning, they were both cranky and miserable. Tim was exhausted and Al insisted he take a nap that afternoon, that she would watch Nicky.

The nap left Tim feeling groggy. He went into the living room and sat on the couch next to Al, who was holding Nicky.

"How was your nap?" asked Al.

"Good. How are you two doing? Feeling any better?" Tim rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"I'm about the same and Nicky's maybe gotten a bit worse. He's very fussy but the good news is he's still eating and doesn't seem lethargic." As if to illustrate the point, Nicky kicked his legs, solidly catching Tim in the ribs.

Tim gently took Nicky from Al and held him up. The baby's eyes were bright and clear but his nose was running. Tim repositioned Nicky in the crook of his arm, then reached over and got a tissue. When he was wiping Nicky's nose, his hand brushed the baby's cheek and he was surprised by how warm he felt.

"Al, is it just me, or does he feel awfully warm?"

Al leaned down and pressed her cheek against Nicky's forehead. "Yeah, he does seem maybe a bit warm. Here, let me go take his temperature."

She took the baby from Tim and left the room, returning several minutes later, sitting back down next to Tim. "He has a little fever all right – it's about 100 degrees."

"Should we take him to the doctor?" asked Tim.

"No, he's fine for right now. In fact, he probably better off here than in a waiting room full of sick kids. I gave him some Tylenol and we can give him a lukewarm bath if he seems uncomfortable. But unless he gets really fussy or stops eating, the doctor's pretty much going to tell you what I just did."

Tim felt jittery and uneasy. "Maybe we should at least call the doctor."

Al sighed. "If it's going to make you feel better, knock yourself out. I think it's funny though, that you suddenly want to call the doctor when the last time we were there, you wanted to deck him."

"It wasn't the doctor I was pissed at, it was those damn shots and how they made Nicky scream. That was horrible, standing there, watching someone hurt him and not being able to do anything about it." Just the memory of it upset Tim all over again. He stood up and went into the bedroom, where he'd left his phone.

After calling the doctor, he returned to the living room.

"Well?" asked Al.

Tim gave her a bashful smile. "Yeah, he said everything you said."

"This isn't my first rodeo, you know?" Al nudged him in the ribs and then leaned against him.

"Yeah, I know," said Tim quietly. "How are you doing with all that? It's nearly Christmas Eve."

Tim couldn't help but remember their first Christmas Eve together, which was also Avery's birthday and had sent Al into a self-destructive spiral.

"I've been thinking about her a lot, ever since Nicky was born. Wondering what she would have been like. She'd just be turning nine. I think she would have liked being a big sister."

Tim nodded and squeezed Al's hand. He never quite knew what to say about Avery, so he just listened as Al told him about the handful of fevers Avery had during her short life.

Before Tim knew it, it was dinner time, then Nicky's bed time. They both slept better that night, but Nicky was still feverish in the morning. The couple of days leading up to Christmas were a blur for Tim and he was reminded, when Al mentioned on Christmas Eve that Billy and the kids would be coming over in the late afternoon for dinner, that he hadn't talked to Billy in a few days. Tim felt bad about that, but his attention and focus needed to be on his immediate family right now. He'd see Billy the next day and everything would be fine.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Come Christmas afternoon, Al was fully recovered and Nicky was nearly there. His fever and fussiness were gone and his appetite was back, even though he was still a little snuffley. Tim, as usual, managed to avoid getting sick at all.

Al was standing at the kitchen counter, looking through a cookbook while Nicky sat in his swing, the Santa hat on his head providing hours of entertainment as he tried, without success, to grab the cottony white ball at the end of it. Tim was sitting at the kitchen table, sports page open in front of him, but mostly he was just watching his son.

"Can I please take the hat off?" asked Tim with a grumble.

"No, it's cute," said Al absentmindedly, her attention on the cookbook.

"You know, I wouldn't dress George up like that so I don't understand why you're doing this to our son. You're probably going to scar him for life."

"You have a very short memory. Do you not remember the reindeer antlers you put on him a couple of Christmases ago?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Tim, grinning at the memory.

He stood up and stretched, then ambled over to Al. He stood close behind her, one hand rested on her hip, the other moved her hair off her neck. He leaned in and alternated kissing her neck with whispering in her ear, a combination that nearly always worked.

It took a little bit longer than usual, with Al protesting that she was busy getting ready for their dinner guests. Tim patiently wore down her resistance, smiling when she finally relaxed back against him and turned her head, giving him the opportunity to lean down and kiss her.

As the kiss deepened, Tim turned her around and easily lifted her onto the kitchen counter, eliminating the height difference. Tim's mind was somewhere else when he felt Al's hands on his chest, pushing him back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"Your phone is ringing," she said, pulling it out of his pocket.

Tim went back to kissing her as he took the phone and put it on the counter. He groaned when Al pushed him back again.

"Answer it," she insisted.

The phone stopped ringing and Tim smiled.

"Must not have been that important," he said. Before he even had a chance to kiss her again, the phone rang again.

"All right, I know," said Tim before Al had a chance to tell him to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Uncle Timmy, Daddy won't wake up," said TJ, his voice flat, like he had just been waiting for this sort of problem to arise.

"What do you mean? Is he moving or talking at all?"

"He's snoring."

Tim allowed himself a second of relief. "Okay, TJ. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay," said TJ. Tim could hear the baby crying in the background and Amber shouting at Jack to stop doing something. It sounded like absolute chaos and Tim wondered how long it had been going on before his nephew had finally called him.

"Good job on calling me, buddy. You did the right thing. See you soon."

Tim disconnected the call and stepped back so Al could slide off the counter. "Get some stuff ready for Nicky – I don't know how long we'll be gone."

Tim dialed Jason's number, hoping his friend was home. He seemed to remember that Jay had been happy because he'd negotiated what he'd considered a good deal for Christmas, promising to be at his parents' house on Christmas Eve and New Year's Day in return for a Christmas alone with his wife and son.

"Merry Christmas, Timmy," said Jay when he answered the phone.

"Six, I need you and Lyla to watch Nicky for maybe a couple of hours. I don't know how long – there's a problem at Billy's." As he talked Tim put on his boots and looked for his truck keys.

"No problem.. I'll send Lyla over to get him now."

Less than five minutes later, Lyla was standing in their living room, all big concerned eyes and fluttering hands.

"You guys can just go, I'll get whatever else he needs and lock the place up," said Lyla.

Al handed over the baby and her house keys. "Thanks, Lyla. There are some bottles in the fridge. One of us will call when we know what's going on."

The drive over to Billy's was tense and hurried. Inside the truck it was quiet, no music or talking, only the the sound of the engine providing background noise. The drive seemed to take forever, like being a dream where you're running down a hallway that gets longer and longer and you never get where you're going.

When they got to the house, Tim parked in the street and rushed across the lawn to the front door without waiting for Al to catch up. He didn't bother knocking, he just pushed the door open. TJ was sitting on the couch, a grim expression on his face. The Christmas tree, with its lights and ornaments, was set up in the corner. Wrapping paper and toys littered the living room floor.

Al came in and went into Amber's room, where Cody was crying. Tim headed back to Billy's room, finding his brother sprawled on the middle of the bed.

"Billy, wake up," Tim said loudly, kicking the mattress for emphasis.

Billy didn't react at all. He was snoring softly and his breathing seemed irregular and ragged. Tim looked around the room and spotted several empty bottles – beer, whiskey, vodka. Tim leaned over his brother and began shaking him and shouting at him to wake up. Still, Billy continued to sleep.

Tim kicked at a blanket in frustration and watched as a small brown vial rolled across the room. He tracked it down and read the label. It was Vicodin, prescribed after Billy's surgery, and it was empty.

"Shit, Billy, what've you done?" asked Tim softly, running his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath. _Don't think, just react._

Al came into the room carrying Cody. She looked at Billy, then at Tim. He handed her the bottle.

"How many did he take?" she asked.

"No idea. Don't know how many were in there to begin with. Hell, I didn't even know he was taking them."

"He needs to go to the hospital," said Al.

"I know," Tim said. He picked Billy's jeans up off the floor and fished a set of keys out of the pocket.

"Take the kids to our house. I'll call the ambulance after they're in the car. C'mon, I'll help you with Jack."

Five minutes later, the kids were in the minivan and Tim was back in the house, calling the ambulance. He looked out the front window and could see TJ's face pressed up against the car window. The flat, unreadable expression made Tim sad. The kid was too young to look like that.

When the ambulance was on its way, Tim opened the front door and sank down onto the couch. He waited, rolling the Vicodin bottle around in his hand and trying to focus on how much he'd like to kick Billy's ass right now. Tyra was right. Sometimes mad was just easier.


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When the paramedics arrived, one of them asked Tim a bunch of questions while the other went back to Billy's room. Tim felt useless because he didn't have many answers. He didn't know how much Billy had drunk, how many pills he'd taken, how long he'd been like that. With the benefit of hindsight, Tim realized he should have asked Amber and TJ some of these questions. But at the time, his only instinct was to get them as far away from the situation, as fast as possible.

After the paramedics had Billy out of the house and into the ambulance, Tim followed them in his truck, nearly matching their speed along the empty streets. He squeezed the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles went white and began to ache.

Tim parked his truck and hurried into the hospital, letting the nurse at the front desk know that his brother had just been brought in. She directed him to the waiting room, which was nearly empty. He settled into an uncomfortable chair, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light. The TV in the corner was playing a black and white Christmas film, but Tim couldn't focus on anything.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Al and Jay. Within minutes, he had texts back from both of them. The kids were okay; Noah came over and all the big kids were playing happily in the yard.

Tim's anger at Billy was starting to evaporate, which left room for worry and fear to seep into his mind. He was scared and wished someone would hurry up and tell him something soon. Time was back to its funny tricks, slowing down to an unbearable rate where every minute felt more like an hour.

Tim leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to force himself to slow down and clear his mind. Jay had once told him that he'd learned to meditate. This was after the accident and Jay figured he was sitting around, doing a bunch of nothing anyway. Tim thought meditation sounded stupid, but now he was beginning to think that Six was onto a good thing.

"Mr. Riggins?" Tim looked up to find a doctor standing in front of him. The man was tall, gaunt and looked like he only got about four hours of sleep a week.

Tim nodded and scrambled to his feet, following the doctor back into a small, empty consultation room.

"We pumped your brother's stomach and gave him activated charcoal tablets to absorb any residual toxins. You told the paramedic that you didn't know how many pills he took?"

"No sir." Tim fought the urge to fidget under the man's intense gaze.

"We were only able to find two pills in his system and the indication was that they were taken recently. We'll know more when the tox screen comes back, but I would cautiously sat at this point that it seems like this was just an unfortunate accident – the mixing of prescription pain-relievers with alcohol."

Tim's brain tried to keep up with the doctor's words, but he fell behind. "So, he's okay then?"

"Well, he's awake and alert now. We'd like to hold him for observation for the next 24 hours. If you think he's a danger to himself or others, we could start the procedure for holding him involuntarily for 72 hours, but I'll warn you that there's a legal component to it and it really is used only as a last resort."

"A last resort," repeated Tim, wishing that Al was there to translate some of this for him.

"Well, yes. It would be far better, if you're concerned about his mental well-being, to convince him to voluntarily request in-patient treatment," the doctor said.

Tim ran a hand through his hair and fought the urge to pace. "Can I see him?"

"Of course," said the doctor as he opened the door. Tim followed him down the corridor and around the corner to a small room with just one bed in it. Billy was sitting up in bed and when he saw Tim walk through the door, he turned his head away.

"Billy, what the hell were you thinking? What did you do?" asked Tim, trying but failing to keep his voice calm.

"It's not what you think. I know what it looks like but it's not what you think." Billy turned his head and looked at Tim, his eyes bloodshot and sad.

Tim sat down in the chair next to the bed, hunched forward with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands folded. "Fine, then tell me what it was."

"I hurt my back last week, putting up the Christmas tree. Then this morning, I was on the floor putting together one of TJ's toys when Jack jumped on my back. He didn't mean any harm, just Jack being Jack, but dear god, it hurt.

"I had a couple of those pain-relievers left over from the surgery, so I took those. That's all it was."

"So all those empty vodka and whiskey bottles in your room had nothing to do with it?"

"That's just drinkin'. That's different. You can't bitch at me about that."

"How much did you drink before you took those pills?"

Billy shrugged and looked down.

"Don't tell me....you've been drinking pretty much continually for the last few days?" Tim asked, ready to blame himself for not checking in on Billy recently.

"Not a lot, Tim. Just enough."

"Enough for what? To pass out and scare your kids?"

Billy shook his head. "Enough to not feel so much, enough to forget a lot, but not so much that I couldn't look after the kids. Everything would've been fine if I hadn't hurt my back."

Tim rubbed his face and tried to think of what to say next.

"Where are they?" asked Billy.

"Al took them to our house. They'll stay there, at least for the night. The doctor said they're going to keep you for 24 hours, we'll see how you feel then."

"I'm fine, Tim."

Tim sighed. "Look, Billy, you're alive, I believe you weren't trying to hurt yourself, but you are so not fine. You're not even close to fine. Not even on the same freaking planet."

"Tim," said Billy, a warning in his voice. But when Billy looked up at Tim, whatever he was about to say got caught in his throat. Tim was _mad_.

"Billy, things have gotta change. The kids can't keep going through this with you. They can't keep worrying that you're not going to wake up or that you're just going to fall apart. They need you."

Billy closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Would you bring Amber and TJ here? Please?"

"No way, Billy. No way. They don't need to come into a hospital and see you like this, especially not at Christmas. You can call and tell them you're okay. And apologize. But I'm not bringing them here."

Billy opened his mouth to argue but Tim's steely glare shut him down.

"You gottta get your shit together, Billy. Seriously. Maybe you need to find someone you could talk to or something."

"I don't think so," said Billy with a rueful chuckle. "Dad always said that shit was for pansies."

"Yeah, well, Dad don't have nothing to do with his kids anymore either. Is that really the sort of guy you wanna be taking advice from?"

Anger passed over Billy's face, flashed in his eyes. When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. "You can leave now."

"What?" Tim looked up, confused.

"Leave. Now."

"But-"

"Get the hell out, Tim," said Billy.

Tim stood up slowly, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, all right. But I'll be back tomorrow around noon to give you a ride home. You can call me if the plan changes."

Billy turned his head and refused to look at his brother. Tim sighed and walked out of the room, relieved that Billy was alive and had only been stupid, but he still found himself wanting to kick his brother's ass.


	41. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and I suppose I should claim TJ, now, since he's rapidly becoming one of my favorite characters****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim drove back to Billy's house and packed bags for the kids. He wasn't sure how long they'd be staying so he gathered enough clothes for a week. He remembered to get Cody's diapers and baby monitor, the stuffed mouse that Jack needed to fall asleep, and all of the nightlights.

When he got back home, he found Al in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and arranging them on a tray. He sat down at the kitchen table and looked out the sliding glass door at the backyard. Noah and TJ were playing football and it looked like Jack was trying hard to keep up with them. Amber sat on the porch swing and watched while George lumbered around the yard, knocking into the kids.

"George is a pretty good blocker. Even if he has no clue which team he's on," said Tim.

Al stood behind him, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

Tim took a deep breath and let it out through puffed up cheeks, feeling a bit like a deflated balloon. "Okay, I guess. Billy says Jack jumped on his back this morning and aggravated an injury, so he just took two of the pills."

"Well....that's better than the alternative, right?" asked Al, searching in vain for the bright side of this storm cloud.

"Yeah. 'Course there's no telling how much or for how long he'd been drinking, so that's kind of maybe a problem." Tim never felt like he had any right to criticize anyone else's drinking, but it was impossible to stand by and watch what Billy was doing to himself and his family.

Al kissed his cheek and squeezed her arms tight around him. "They keeping him overnight?"

"Yeah. I got clothes and stuff for the kids. I'm thinking they might be here for a few days at least. See how Billy's doing first."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Al.

"Billy wanted to see Amber and TJ, but I told him I wouldn't bring them up there, that he should call them instead. Did he?"

"Yeah – Amber talked to him for about five minutes, cried a little, talked for about five minutes more and then was fine. TJ refused to take the phone or even say a single word near the phone."

Tim rubbed his face, like he could wipe his troubles away that easily. "So," he said finally. "What's for dinner?"

"Well, I put the roast in the freezer. I didn't know when you'd be back and it takes a long time to cook, so it just seemed better to save it for later. So I put it to a vote."

"You did, huh? You put it to a vote to a pack of kids? What's it going to be, ice cream and Lucky Charms?"

"No, I wish I'd thought of that as an option. Mac and cheese was the big winner," said Al with a smile.

"That kind you make with the real cheese and milk and butter and then you bake it so the top gets all nice and crispy?"

"That's the one. Sorry, it's not much of a Christmas dinner, but given the circumstances..." Al's voice trailed off.

Tim turned around in his seat so he could kiss her. "It's great. One of your best dinners. It's not like it's coming out of a box or a can."

"And I hope you don't mind, I invited Jason and Lyla over for dinner."

Tim pursued his lips and shook his head. "That's great. That'll be a good distraction."

"Now you see that? That right there?" asked Al, gesturing toward the back yard.

Tim turned around and looked. He saw Amber carrying the football. She bypassed TJ to give it to Noah, grinning the whole time. Tim didn't really remember what grade school flirting looked like, but he guessed it went something like that.

"That is going to be trouble in about ten years," said Al with a sigh.

"No, more like seven or eight years," said Tim,. He watched the kids play and wondered what they'd be like in seven or eight years. He shook his head. Forget years. The way things were right now, he could barely think seven weeks into the future.

Tim stood up and stretched. He put an arm around Al and kissed her forehead. "I can still smell the hospital – I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?"

"I really shouldn't. Somebody has to keep an eye on the kids out there."

"You sure?" Tim asked, tracing her collarbone, wishing they could pick up where they left off when TJ had called.

"I'm sure that I'd like to and equally sure that I really can't. Raincheck?"

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"You better," she said, pushing him lightly toward the door.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

Tim felt much better after he'd showered and changed his clothes. As he passed through the dining room, he saw Al struggling to put in the table extension.

"Let me get that," he said.

She grumbled a little but stepped away and grudgingly watched as he easily popped the heavy mahogany panel into place. "Thanks."

"No problem. You do know that you don't have to do everything by yourself? You can ask for help. You know that right?" he asked, his teasing tone not quite matching the serious look in his eyes.

Al sighed. "I know. It's just I used to be able to do that. Carrying Nicky around all day isn't anywhere near as good of a workout as being at work."

Tim kissed her forehead. "Yeah, well, we'll talk about that soon. Not today though."

"Definitely not. Jay and Lyla should be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay. I need to talk to Amber and TJ....I'm not sure what to do about Jack. I can never tell how much he understands." Tim rubbed the back of his neck, dreading the conversation he was about to have.

"Send him in with Noah, I can talk to him. You don't have to do everything yourself either," she said with a smile.

He put a hand on her arm and squeezed it gently, then went outside and sat on the porch swing next to Amber.

"Hi, Uncle Timmy," she said, then she lowered her voice a little. "Isn't Noah Street about the cutest boy ever?"

Tim smiled and subtracted a few years from his estimate of when Amber and Noah were going to be trouble. "Sure, he's a nice kid."

Amber went back to watching the boys and Tim cleared his throat, then called them over. In seconds, he was surrounded by three eager little boys and one panting Wolfhound.

"Noah and Jack, you need to go inside to wash up for dinner. We'll be there in a minute."

Tim watched the boys head for the house and disappear through the glass door. He looked at Amber, her face open and hopeful, and then over at TJ, whose expression was unreadable. Kid's going to make one hell of a poker player, Tim thought as he took a deep breath.

"I wanted to talk to you about your dad. He called, so you know he's all right. The thing is, your dad is really, really sad and, well, it's making it hard for him to take care of y'all. So you're going to stay here with me and Al until he feels better."

"How long is that going to be?" asked Amber.

"I don't know," said Tim, figuring it was better to tell the truth, even when the truth was that he had no idea.

"When can we see him?" There was a little quiver in Amber's voice and Tim was on high-alert for tears.

"I'm not sure about that either. Maybe a few days, maybe longer."

Amber nodded and looked down. Tim looked at TJ, who had folded his arms, and was looking off into the distance.

"Amber, can you go inside? I think Al might need some help and I think you're just the girl for the job." Amber jumped off the porch swing and took a few steps away, then turned back around and gave Tim a hug before dashing off.

"Have a seat," said Tim, patting the wooden bench next to him.

TJ shook his head.

"Okay then. Tim rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward, trying to connect with TJ. "I know today was scary for you, but you did really good. You did everything right and none of this is your fault and none of this is anything you can change. Do you understand?"

TJ shrugged one shoulder and looked down.

"TJ, look at me. Do you understand that this isn't your fault?"

The boy kept his head down, but Tim should see his green eyes peering up at him through scruffy bangs. It reminded him of the time he'd found an injured cat in the alley behind the convenient store, the animal backed into a corner, neither flight nor fight a viable option.

"I guess so," TJ finally said.

"Your dad loves you so much, he really does. More than anything."

"You're lying," accused TJ.

"No, I'm not. Look, TJ, I promise you, I am not going to lie to you about any of this. Someday, that might mean that I have to tell you something that will hurt you, but right now, I can tell you, cross-my-heart-hope-to-die, your dad loves you and your sister and brothers more than anything in the world."

TJ sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay, I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Tim allowed himself a small smile. "Don't have to like what?"

"Don't have to like the stupid things he does because he's sad." TJ looked up now, his eyes fierce even though a few tears had slipped out.

Tim reached out and gently took TJ's arm, pulling him close enough so he could lift the boy into his lap. Tim put his arms around his nephew and squeezed him tight. "Nope, you don't have to like what he does, but you should still try to love him and remember that he loves you because he's still your dad and nothing can change that."

Tim held TJ for a few more minutes, then leaned back to look at him. "You okay?"

TJ shrugged. "Yeah."

"Ready to go inside?"

"Yeah," TJ hopped back to the ground, rubbing his face against his arm. If a magical genie had appeared at that moment, Tim's first wish would be that Billy would get his damn act together because Tim didn't know how many of these conversations he could have with TJ before both of their hearts were nothing more than a pile of splinters.


	42. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When Jay and Lyla arrived, the older were watching a movie because dinner wasn't quite ready yet. Al was in the living room with both babies, so Tim sent Jay and Lyla there while he got drinks for everyone. After some small talk, Al looked at her watch.

"It's bedtime for babies," she said as she stood up.

"Want some help?" asked Jason.

"Thanks, Jay. That's very sweet of you." Al picked Cody up off the floor and placed him in Jason's lap, waiting until Jay had an arm around the boy before stepping back to scoop Nicky up. Jason followed Al out of the room, toward the hallway.

"Tim, I'm really sorry to hear about Billy. That must have been so awful and scary," said Lyla.

Tim shrugged and took a long pull from his beer. He didn't really want to talk about it and hoped Lyla would get the hint.

"He's just sad, is all," said Lyla softly.

Tim sighed. "That's what I keep telling TJ and Amber. Maybe if I say it enough, I'll start to believe it too."

"I know I don't have your vast experience with drunks, but I don't think Billy is one or that he meant to hurt himself. I know it's been a long time, but I know your brother. He'll find his way eventually.

"I hope so. For their sakes." Tim nodded his head in the direction of the television room.

Lyla took a sip of wine and looked around the room. "Al's looking well and Nicky is just adorable. You must be so proud."

"Thanks. He's a lot of fun. He figured out how to roll over onto his back the other day."

Lyla smiled. "Is Al planning on going back to work?"

Tim groaned softly. "How do you do that?"

" Do what?" Lyla asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"You always manage to find the last thing on earth that I want to talk about and then bring it up."

Lyla blushed. "Sorry, I didn't know...I was just trying to.....have a conversation."

"It's okay. It's just things are so unsettled right now. Hey, if I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?"

Lyla nodded.

Tim leaned forward. "I'm thinking Al should go back to work and I'll stay home and watch Nicky. Maybe Cody and Jack too, get them out of daycare."

Lyla laughed then clapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Tim. It's just...."

"Is it really that ridiculous?" Tim looked down, knowing that the hurt was printed on his face as plain as newsprint but he didn't care.

"You know there's more to watching babies and toddlers than just drinking beer while they nap, right?"

Tim rolled his eyes, annoyance replacing his original feelings of inadequacy. "Yes, Lyla, I know that. I've been a father for a few months now and had a houseful of extra kids for a lot of that time."

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to laugh," said Lyla, still smiling like it was all one big joke. "It's just, you're Tim Riggins."

"I'm well aware of who I am, Lyla," said Tim, pinning her in place with an intense stare.

She fidgeted and looked away. "Maybe it's just me then. Maybe it's that I don't know who you are anymore."

"Maybe not," agreed Tim softly. "I like taking care of Nicky. And it's not that Al doesn't like taking care of him, it's just that she needs so much more in her life than I do."

Lyla looked up at Tim with sincere eyes. "I'm sure you'll be good at it. It was just a surprising thing to hear you say, that's all."

Tim and Lyla were saved from further conversation by the arrival of Al and Jason. Al gave Tim the unit for Cody's baby monitor and took Nicky's monitor into the kitchen with her, assuring everyone that dinner would be ready very soon.

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Dinner went very well and Tim was glad for Jay and Lyla's company. They provided an excellent distraction from a less than stellar day. The macaroni and cheese, while perhaps not traditional holiday fare, was excellent. After dinner, Tim made coffee for the adults and hot chocolate for the kids, which they drank while they ate the red and green frosted cupcakes that Lyla had brought over.

"Can I go over to Noah's tomorrow to watch game film? He says Bones Miller is the best quarterback ever, but I don't believe him," asked TJ.

"He is," insisted Noah with a quiet, dignified certainty.

Tim looked up at Al. He didn't quite know what the rules were here, who should be making these sorts of decisions. Yet another item to add to the steadily growing list of Things They Needed to Talk About.

"Um, did Noah ask Jay and Lyla if it was okay?" Tim hedged.

"It's fine with us. We're not going anywhere tomorrow and I'm happy to help Noah make that argument because Bones is damn good."

"You scout the kid, Streeter? You might have a conflict of interest," said Tim with a smile.

Jay shook his head. "Nope, he was before my time, but he really is pretty amazing. He's tall, but scrawny, hence the nickname, and you can't imagine when you look at him that he'd be able to play the way he does."

"I don't know, that's still your team. Your judgement might be clouded. I just might have to come over to provide an outside, balanced opinion."

"Timmy," said Al, a warning in her voice and eyes.

"Oh yeah," Tim ducked his head and shrugged. "I forgot – some errands I've got to run tomorrow. Maybe another time for me, but yes, TJ, you can go."

TJ and Noah exchanged grins and and high fives.

"Uncle Timmy, can I go too?" asked Amber.

"You don't even like football," said TJ, rolling his eyes.

Amber stuck her tongue out at him. "How'm I going to know unless I watch some more? Maybe the games I watched before were just boring."

Jay caught Tim's eye and grinned. Tim tilted his head slightly, praying that Jay would read the signal and make the call, because he didn't know if it were better to let her go or not let her go.

"You can come over anytime, Amber, but it might be boring for you," said Jay, proving once again that he was Tim's best friend.

"I won't be bored," said Amber as she shot her brother a triumphant look. If it bothered him that his sister was going to tag along, TJ hid it well, showing almost no reaction to the decision, just a slight downturn to his mouth that you'd miss if you weren't looking for it.

"Jason, I think we need to be going home soon," said Lyla. Tim knew that 'soon' usually meant now. (He also knew that 'we'll see' meant no and of course 'I'm not mad' meant that the other person was really in trouble.)

Jason nodded and pushed himself back from the table. They left in a flurry of thank-yous, compliments and promises to get together soon.

"OK, bed time – y'all go brush your teeth and we'll be in to tuck you in soon," said Al.

"Can't we just stay up a little longer?" pleaded Amber.

Tim didn't have to look at Al to know the answer to this one. "Nope. You've stayed up plenty late enough. Go on."

Amber gave him the pleading eyes for about 30 more seconds, but when they got her nowhere, she sighed and followed TJ and Jack back to the bathroom.

Tim was looking forward to a little bit of peace and quiet that evening. It wasn't the worst Christmas ever, but it certainly wasn't the Christmas he'd expected to have or one that he'd ever have wished on his niece and nephews. He just hoped that Billy'd had a good long think about things and was ready to start behaving like a responsible adult.


	43. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Tim drove to the hospital the next morning, feeling nauseous from dread. His plan was to get Billy to stay with him and Al for a few days, assess the situation, and then try to figure out what sort of help he needed and how he could get it. The big catch there, of course, was Billy's willingness to accept help.

Tim parked his truck and took a deep breath. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket, which Al had used to write down Billy's room number. 516. Tim walked into the hospital with his head down, avoiding eye contact and hoping he didn't run into anyone he knew because he just wasn't in the mood to chat.

He made it to the elevator without difficulty and was relieved when one arrived shortly thereafter. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the back of the elevator. When it reached the fifth floor, he stepped out, looked at the sign and followed the arrow for rooms 501-520. Billy's room was past the nurse's station, nearly at the end of the long corridor.

He went into room 516 and looked around. An old guy dozed in the bed nearest the door. The other bed was empty and showed no signs of having an occupant. Tim backed out of the room, scratching his head as he tried to think of a logical explanation. Maybe Billy was moved to another room. Or maybe, in all the chaos of looking after the kids, Al had written the numbers down wrong.

Tim headed back to the nurse's station, where an older nurse was seated at the desk, writing in a chart.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for Billy Riggins. My wife said he was in 516, but I didn't see him in there," said Tim.

The nurse looked up at him and frowned. "Just a minute, let me double-check something."

Her chair was on wheels and she pushed it back and scooted over to a filing cabinet. She opened the bottom drawer and flipped through it, mumbling to herself, before she came up with a chart. She pushed herself back to the desk, opened the chart and adjusted her reading glasses.

"Yeah, I thought I remembered correctly. Mr. Riggins checked himself out AMA after the 11pm shift change last night."

"I'm sorry, AMA? I don't know what that means," said Tim, even though he had a sinking suspicion that it didn't mean anything good.

"Against Medical Advice. It means the doctor told him not to and he went an' did it anyway," the nurse said as she looked up at him, her reading glasses sliding down her nose so she was peering over them.

Tim sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Yeah, that sounds like Billy all right. I know you probably weren't here, but, well, it's not like he had a car or anything. Does it say anything in there about where he went or how he got there?"

"I'm sorry, son, it doesn't," said the nurse, her smile kind and her voice regretful "I wish I could help you more, but all I know is what's written down here."

"I understand. Thank you, ma'am," said Tim. He put his head down and retraced his steps back to the truck.

Tim started up his truck and drummed his hands on the steering wheel. He guessed he should go back to Billy's. It was the obvious place to look, after all.

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The door at Billy's house was locked, but Tim had a key. He unlocked the door and opened it slowly, calling out his brother's name. The house pretty much looked the same as he'd left it the day before – toys and wrapping paper littering the living room floor like a twister had recently blown through.

Tim headed back to Billy's room, but it was empty. The state of the room was such a mess that Tim found it impossible to tell if his brother had returned to pack a bag. Just to be thorough, he checked all of the other rooms and had a quick walk around the pool, but there was no sign of Billy.

He opened the back garage door and had a look around, dreading the possibilities of what he could find. Tim took a deep breath and turned on the light, then walked slowly through the garage, checking everything thoroughly.

He nearly missed it, the tarp against the wall in the corner of the garage. It was dusty, except for a set of handprints at the top. Tim walked over and pulled the it away, revealing an empty space with just an oil stain on the ground. He'd nearly forgotten that Billy had a motorcycle, since Mindy never let him ride it after they were married. Even though she was so adamant against it, Billy had kept it in the hopes that he might one day wear down her opposition.

Tim dropped the tarp, wiped his hands on his pants and returned to the house. He sat on the couch, pulled out his phone and tried to call Billy, but it went straight to voicemail. He left a short message in what he hoped was a calm, non-confrontational voice. Then he looked around the room and sighed.

He peeled himself off the couch, found a roll of garbage bags in a kitchen drawer and then cleaned up the worst of the place. He picked up all of the wrapping paper and cardboard boxes in the living room and the empty bottles in Billy's room. He left the bags outside in front of the garage, then headed home.

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When he got home, he found Al reading a book in the living room, her feet up on the coffee table and two baby monitors sitting next to her. Tim put the monitors on the table and sat down next to her.

"Where are the kids?" he asked.

"Amber and TJ are over at Noah's, everyone else is napping."

"Even Jack?" asked Tim, impressed.

"Even Jack. I don't think he slept very well last night because he actually fell asleep on the floor out here and I had to carry him back to his bed."

Al sat up straighter and shifted around so she was facing Tim. She put her hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it gently. He closed his eyes and smiled for a minute, enjoying the feeling and delaying the inevitable bad news.

"He wasn't there, Al. Billy was gone. Checked himself out late last night," Tim said eventually. He opened his eyes and looked at Al, her face a mixture of anger and sadness.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Timmy."

He shrugged. "Yeah. Me too. Jesus. What are we going to do?"

Al was quiet for a long minute, then she leaned over and rested her head on Tim's shoulder.

"Al, that wasn't a rhetorical question. I'm serious. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Timmy," she said sadly.

Tim looked down at her, surprise in his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously." The corners of Al's mouth turned down as she looked a question at Tim. He brushed the hair off her face.

"It's just....I thought....well, you always seem to know what to do."

Al laughed, a loud sound at odds with the somber mood in the room.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked, ready to feel hurt if she was laughing at him.

"Timmy, I don't have a clue what I'm doing half the time. I'm just making it up as I go along, same as everyone else."

"For real?"

She nodded.

"But you always seem like you know what to do, what's right, how to do things."

"My grandma used to tell us if we always acted like we knew where we were going and what we were doing, then no one would mess with us. Guess it just became a habit after awhile," said Al with a shrug.

Tim put his arm up along the back of the couch so that Al could cuddle up next to him. He eased his arm down around her shoulders, pulled her close, and pressed a kiss into the top of her head. She put her arm across his torso, tucking her hand around the side of his waist, a couple of fingers slipping into the waistband of his pants, which had the potential to be completely distracting but he tried to ignore it.

"Look, Timmy, the way I see it, we just have to try to be a family. What does that mean to you?"

Tim closed his eyes and thought about growing up, about going over to Six's house and feeling like he was getting to see what a real family was. He knew that a lot of kids were jealous of him in middle school and high school. What kid wouldn't be jealous of a teenager with his own beer cooler and a brother who didn't care if his girlfriends spent the night?

But the truth was, most days, he would've been happy to have someone tell him what to do and mean it. He knew Billy loved him and had tried his best, but Tim had sometimes been jealous of what Six had. He tried to think of what it was that made Jay's family a family.

"I don't know. Rules, limits, regular bedtimes, family dinners, unconditional love," he mumbled quickly before he lost the words.

Al stretched up to kiss him. "It's not going to be easy, but that's what we'll work on – giving them all of that, as best we can. Okay?"

"Okay." He ran his hand up her arm, over her shoulder and around the back of her neck. He pressed his forehead into hers and smiled. "Oh yeah, I thought of one more thing."

"What's that?" she asked.

"A puppy," he said, not even trying to disguise the hope in his voice.

"Nice try, Timmy. Nice try," she said and then kissed him, derailing any further attempts to lobby for a new puppy.


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note – Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. You'll see, it's one of those summarizing-catching-up chapters that always slow me down.**

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Over the next few days, Tim and Al fell into a comfortable routine for taking care of the kids. Al handled the mornings and Tim picked up the slack for the rest of the day. They split the bedtime duties, switching off the kids between them. Nicky slept a bit more than he used to, but Tim still woke up with him if it was before 4am.

It all worked, although there were some minor hiccups along the way. Al warned Tim that Amber and TJ might start to act out, to try to test the limits, but so far, their misbehavior had amounted only to run-of-the-mill things, like bickering over television programs or whining at bedtime. Noah and TJ were spending a lot of time together, with Amber trailing after them, a situation that TJ disliked, but there seemed to be no stopping her.

Tim and Al still hadn't quite figured out what they were going to do regarding work and childcare. The garage was meant to open on Monday and they still hadn't heard from Billy. Tim called him every day and went over to the house, but it seemed like he was well and truly gone.

In the short term, Tim had agreed that they should both go into work, for at least the first week. There would be a lot to do, especially if Billy didn't show up. Al arranged for Celia to watch Jack and the babies for that week.

The first week back at the garage was rocky, since Al discovered many mistakes and issues that Billy had left behind. Unpaid invoices, missed tax payments, messy books. At the end of one long day that she said had felt like it had been spent trying to put toothpaste back into a tube, Al had asked Tim what had been going on the last several months. Tim had shrugged.

He thought he'd kept a good enough eye on things, but apparently there was much more to running a business than he understood. He was glad Al was back at work; the garage needed her and she needed it. Even though she was tired at the end of most days, she seemed happier.

Tim was also relieved that Al was there to manage D'Andre and the interns. D'Andre had been nervous to see her, afraid that it meant he no longer had a job there. While Al had told the interns that Billy was taking some time off and it was none of their business, Tim suspected that she'd been more forthcoming with D'Andre, since they'd had a long chat in Billy's office that first morning.

Tim had some hope that Billy would return to work the first day, but that hope steadily receded throughout the week. By Friday, Tim was no longer looking up every time the door opened. If he let himself think about things, Tim got angry, so he didn't think about it. He just focused on whatever was in front of him, whether at home or at work.

At bedtime on Friday night, Al was responsible for TJ and Cody while Tim took care of Amber and Jack. Whoever got done first then took care of Nicky. Tim was glad they traded off each night, since if you were putting Amber to sleep, it was pretty much guaranteed to take half a lifetime. Or at least that's how it felt. Al found the whole 'puppy love' thing sweet, but Tim would be happier if he never had to hear about how cute Noah Street was.

After finally escaping from Amber's room, Tim grabbed a beer from the kitchen and collapsed on the couch. He'd no sooner sat down before he could hear fussy cries from Cody's baby monitor. Since he shared a room with Jack, Tim was less inclined to let him cry it out, but it was hard to summon the activation energy to peel himself off the couch and drag his tired body back there.

He smiled when he heard Al's voice over the monitor as she whispered, "Don't worry, Timmy, I've got it." A few minutes later, Al came in with Cody, who had worked himself up from fussy cries to red-faced screaming. As much as she tried to soothe him, Cody wasn't having it.

"Another tooth?" asked Tim.

"Yeah, that's what it looks like," replied Al.

Tim excused himself from the room and washed his hands, then came back and took Cody from Al. She shot him a look that clearly said _Do you really think you can do any better?_ Tim just smiled at her. If you'd told Tim a year ago that he would think nothing of sticking his finger in a baby's mouth to rub the child's gums, he'd have laughed at you.

But he'd learned that it worked, especially if he walked around and talked to the baby at the same time. Tim kept his voice low, in both tone and volume, his words barely audible to anyone but Cody. In a few minutes, the baby was settled and a few minutes after that, he was sleeping. Tim grinned at Al and left to return Cody to his crib. When he got back to the living room, Al still had a dazed look on her face.

"When did you become the Baby Whisperer? That was amazing." she said as Tim sat down next to her. She curled up against him and he rested a hand on her knee.

"I don't know. Guess I've just had a lot of practice recently."

Al grinned. "You've come a long way from when you were afraid of TJ's soft head and wobbly neck.....unless you were just using that as an excuse to get me to babysit with you."

"It wasn't an excuse. I was terrified then. The rest was just a happy side effect."

"So...." began Al, leaning back and looking up at Tim. "I called the day care place. They can take both the babies and Jack, starting on Wednesday."

Tim sighed and brushed the hair off his face. "I gotta tell you, I'm not all that thrilled with the idea of day care. It's like baby jail or something."

"It is not. That's a really good place. Their baby-worker ratios are really good and they have qualified pre-school teachers. Tami speaks very highly of the place and, you know, if was good enough for Baby Gracie...." Al let her sentence trail off.

"I just think Nicky belongs at home," said Tim in a firm, level voice.

Al slid a tiny bit away from him, like she was preparing for an argument. "Careful there. Are you saying Nicky belongs at home and implying that I do as well?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I didn't say that. Didn't even think it. We need you at the garage now."

"Well, the trouble is Celia can't watch them all the time and it would be very unnerving and difficult to try to find a babysitter we could trust. Day care is the best option."

"I'd like to stay home with the kids. I could even pick Amber and TJ up when school let out, get them out of the afterschool program."

"Are you joking?"

Tim fought the urge to roll his eyes. "No, I'm not joking."

Al looked at him, one eyebrow raised and her mouth twisted up to the side.

"What are you giving me the skeptical look for?" protested Tim. "You think I can't handle it?"

"No-"

"Then what? Do you think I'm going to sit on the couch all day and drink beer while they run wild?"

"No. You're more responsible than that."

"Then what's the problem?" Tim looked at her intently as she appeared to be choosing her words carefully. When she finally spoke, the words came out slowly.

"I just have a hard time believing it's something that you'd _want_ to do."

"I just said that I did and I'm not really in the habit of saying things I don't mean."

Al was quiet for a few minutes and Tim couldn't quite read her face. He thought he saw maybe some regret or guilt there but wasn't sure why that would be. Al sighed and reached out for Tim's hand, taking and holding it in both of her small hands.

"It's just....I'm afraid that you're doing this out of some misguided sense of responsibility and that ultimately, you'll grow to regret your decision and maybe even resent the kids and me."

Tim reached over with his free hand and brushed back Al's curls so he could rub the back of her neck. "It's not like that at all."

"I just don't think you understand what this means," Al said, looking up at Tim with sad, earnest eyes. "How your world shrinks down to just this house. How you never get to talk to grown-ups. How every second, of every day, you've got someone needing something from you. I couldn't do it."

"I know you love Nicky and Cody and Jack. But I also know you need more in your life. Problems to solve, people to talk to, stuff like that. You love fixing cars. For me, it was just a job. Better than working at a desk or inside a store, but still just a job."

"You've thought about this? Really, really thought about it?" asked Al.

Tim nodded. "Pretty much constantly for the last week or two."

Al thought in silence for a bit, then slowly nodded her head. "Okay, but you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"If, after a few days or weeks or whatever, anytime, really, you realize it's not what you want to do or you're unhappy, you'll tell me so we can think of something else."

"Not baby jail, though," said Tim.

Al sighed. "I can't promise you that day care wouldn't be part of Plan B. But I can promise you that it wouldn't be full-time. We could figure out a creative solution, maybe part time at day care and then we could split the rest of the time between us."

Tim pulled her into his lap and held her close, breathing in the coconut smell of her hair and enjoying the soft, warm feel of her cheek against his neck. Having gotten her to agree to his plan, Tim felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. A sense of purpose.


	45. Chapter 45

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The next Monday, Al took over responsibility for the garage and Tim took over responsibility for the kids. For the most part, their normal routine of Al handling the mornings and then both of them splitting the bedtime duties worked well.

An adjustment had to be made to the dinner routine and it was agreed that Al would plan the meal and Tim would do all the prep work before she got home so she could cook dinner more quickly. It was also agreed that Amber and TJ were old enough to start helping out, by clearing the table, loading and unloading the dishwasher, and washing the pots and pans.

TJ and Amber had both insisted that they didn't want to drop out of the afterschool program, which had nearly hurt Tim's feelings until Al pointed out that Noah and Sarah, their respective best friends, were both in the program. Jason, Lyla and Al agreed to take turns doing the afterschool pick-up and created a complicated schedule that Tim didn't even pretend to understand. Somehow, it all worked.

By Thursday afternoon, Tim ached like he used to in his football days and was exhausted in a way he'd never been before. But he felt good, happy. Cody was starting to pull himself up into a standing position and Nicky was nearly able to roll from his back to his front as well as from his front to his back. The babies seemed to grow and change every day and Tim couldn't imagine missing any of it.

Jack remained Jack: a handful. But Tim was learning how to manage him, how to run him into the ground so he'd take his afternoon nap. Having all of the land was great because he could take the kids for walks without worrying about traffic or strangers or anything. He had an idea that it would be great to build a playground between the houses – maybe some elaborate jungle gym and a grassy area with a football goalpost, just in case he and Al managed to have a little kicker.

Tim looked at the clock and realized he had to start preparing dinner. Al wanted him to dice carrots and onions and also make a salad. Tim thought that sounded like an awful lot of vegetables, but he knew better than to argue about it.

He heard the front door open, then pounding feet as TJ and Amber came in to greet him. Al called from the door "Honey, I'm home" and then laughed. She swore that joke would never get old. Tim had thought it had limited appeal, until he saw how happy and cute she looked when she got home.

Al stepped over the baby gate and dodged Cody, who was bouncing around in his walker. She kissed Tim and then headed for Nicky, scooping him out of his swing and greeting him like she'd been gone for eight months instead of just eight hours.

"Can I have a glass of milk?" asked TJ. Al nodded and put Nicky back in his swing.

"How was your day?" asked Tim as Al poured the milk.

"I'm telling you, Timmy, I about _this close_ to firing Jake," she said, pausing in the pouring to hold her forefinger and thumb millimeters apart to illustrate her point. She finished filling the glass and handed it TJ.

Tim put the knife on the counter and stood next to Al, rubbing her back.

"What's going on?"

"He's just such a jerk. He's giving Lauren a hard time, teasing her, making fun of her. It's been going on for weeks, apparently, and she only just told me today."

"Why didn't she say something sooner?"

"She didn't want to bother Billy," said Al sadly.

Tim thought for a minute. "Since this is a school program, can you even fire him?"

"I don't know. I'm meeting with Tami tomorrow to discuss it. Part of me really wants to fire him, since I'm so mad at him and done with wanting to deal with him. But then, the other part of me thinks I should keep him around, give him all the shit work in the oil change place and move Lauren into the main garage."

Tim nodded. "She's good enough to work in the main garage, and it'd be a great experience. But aren't you worried about looking like you're favoring her because she's a girl?"

Al sighed. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of, so it's at the top of my list of things to talk about with Tami."

Tim gave Al a quick hug and kissed her forehead. "You should probably get changed – I'm nearly done with the chopping."

"Thanks. You're getting pretty good at this domestic stuff. I'm impressed, Timmy. Really, really impressed."

Tim smiled, turned her around and gave her a gentle shove. When she reached the doorway, Al turned back and returned his smile. It might seem like a strange arrangement to anyone else, but it was clearly working for them.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

The next afternoon, the phone rang during nap time. Tim had the cordless phone right next to him and was able to pick it up after the first ring. He'd learned the hard way that it was essential to eliminate all extraneous noise during nap time.

"Tim Riggins?" asked a vaguely familiar, flirty voice.

"Yeah?" said Tim uncertainly. It had been several years since a girl had called him, sounding like that, and he wasn't sure he remembered how to deal with it. Or rather, he remembered how he would have dealt with it, but knew that the rules were completely different now.

"This is Joanie? From the elementary school?"

"What's going on? Are TJ and Amber okay?" Tim went from amused to alarmed in milliseconds.

"There's been a slight......._issue_.....with TJ. The principal needs you to come in."

"Right now?" Tim looked at the clock. Nap time was meant to last for another hour at least.

"If you could," said Joanie, her voice overly suggestive in a way that would have been comical had Tim not been so concerned about his nephew.

"I'll try my best. Might be a half-hour or so," said Tim, hanging up the phone before he had to hear anything else. He paused for a minute, calculating the effort and time involved in his various options. Then he remembered. It was Friday in the off-season; Six should be working at home, watching game film, writing scouting reports and making phone calls.

Tim took out his cell phone and called Jay. He had barely gotten a chance to complete his sentence when Jay cut him off, saying he'd be right over. Tim stood outside, leaning against his truck, and waited for his friend, who arrived less than five minutes later.

"Damn, Six, what were you doing? Just sitting by the phone, waiting for me to call?" teased Tim.

"No, I was on my way out the door, you caught me just in time. A few more seconds and I'd've hefted my sorry ass into my truck and you've been out of luck."

"All right. I have no idea how long this is going to take. You supposed to do the afterschool pick up?"

Jay shook his head. "Lyla is."

"So you're cool to stay here, then?"

"As long as it takes, Timmy. No problem."

Tim thanked him and then got into his truck and drove as fast as he dared out to the school. He was a little over his half-hour estimate, but what were they going to do? Give him detention?

He found TJ sitting on the bench outside the principal's office, arms folded, legs swinging, hair covering his face. Tim paused to sit down next to him.

"Anything you want to tell me before I go in there?" Tim asked softly.

TJ shook his head and refused to look up.

"TJ? I'd really not go in there and get blind-sided. Will you tell me what happened?"

TJ looked up and Tim could see the tears in his eyes. "They said I had to go see Dr. Andrews and I didn't want to cause then I'd have to miss gym class. And besides, he's not even a real doctor anyway. It's all just talking. If he was a real doctor, then he could give you a shot or a medicine and you'd be better."

Tim sighed and put his hand on TJ's shoulder. "Doesn't work that way buddy."

Tim stood up, ruffled TJ's hair and headed into the school office, where Joanie was draped over the desk like she'd been expecting him. Tim only glanced at her, but that was enough to tell him that she had more buttons undone than were strictly necessary in an air-conditioned elementary school office.

"You can go right on in. They're expecting you," she purred.

Tim nodded and averted his eyes, then walked around the counter and into the principal's office. The principal had changed from when he was a student there, but the office was still the same, big and cavernous with uncomfortable furniture and bad lighting. Tim had spent more time in there than he liked to remember and couldn't help feeling like a fifth grader all over again.

"Mr. Riggins," greeted the principal, standing up to shake his hand. "I'm Principal Higgins, this is Doctor Andrews." She gestured to a tall, intense-looking man who was leaning against the window sill. Tim nodded at the doctor, who didn't seem inclined to shake hands, and sat down in the nearest chair.

"I'm sorry to call you in here like this, but, well, we're concerned about TJ."

Tim stayed quiet and tried to put on his best listening face. He made the decision to ignore Doctor Andrews and just focus on the principal, who was a kind-faced woman in her later fifties. Tim could see why TJ wouldn't want to talk to the shrink – the guy seemed a little creepy, to be honest.

"This afternoon, during free time, TJ drew a picture that disturbed his teacher enough to send him down here." She picked up a piece of paper from her desk, turned it over, and slid it across to Tim. He examined it carefully. It was a picture of a man on fire, inside a box. From the short stature, stocky build, plaid shirt, and short brown hair, Tim figured the guy was Billy.

"You can see, it's a little unsettling, so I wasn't surprised at all when Miss Stacy sent him down here. But I was surprised by his reaction when I suggested that he go talk to Dr. Andrews. He became quite angry, refused to go, and knocked several things off of my desk." Principal Higgins kept her voice level and soft, not allowing any accusation or judgement to creep into it, but Tim still felt as though it was still there, lurking just below the surface.

Tim pushed back his hair and scratched his head, thinking, turning words over in his head. Finally, a plausible explanation slotted into place.

"Principal Higgins, I think I know what happened here. When my wife came home yesterday, she was talking about possibly firing someone at the garage. Said that she was mad at this guy and done with him. TJ was around at the time, so he must have heard us talking. So that's what he drew – someone getting fired."

"We understand that TJ and his sister and brothers are living with you," said Dr. Andrews. Where the principal's tone was soothing and even, the shrink sounded like he was trying too hard to be soothing, which immediately put Tim on edge.

"Yes, that's right. You know about his mother and that things have been difficult, so we're helping out."

"And what is a routine day at the house like then?"

Tim narrowed his eyes and stared hard at Dr. Andrews. He wasn't sure why, but he was developing a monumental dislike of this guy and if there was one thing Tim trusted, it was his instincts.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm not quite sure I understand why you're asking me these questions. Didn't you call me here today to talk about the picture and TJ acting out after drawing it?"

"Well, yes," said the shrink, drawing out the words as he steepled his fingers and looked down at Tim smugly. "And the cornerstone is understanding the big picture. The context in which the child is operating."

Tim thought he might have to sit on his hands to keep himself from decking this guy. "I'm sorry, I'm really only here to talk to you about what happened today. If you want some idea of context, then I think you'd best call a separate meeting with both my wife and me."

"Mr. Riggins, we're just trying to assess the situation here. Ensure that the child is safe and all his needs, physical and emotional, are being taken care of during this difficult time. We have a duty, in conjunction with child services, to ensure that he's cared for properly," said Dr. Andrews, a subtle shift in his tone from soothing to offcial.

Tim was done with the pompous ass and decided to direct his remaining attention toward the principal.

"Principal Higgins, I think you can see that TJ's been well-taken care of for the last several months since his mother died, with the exception of that incident with Joey McCoy. Has he gotten in any fights since then?" asked Tim.

"No."

"Hurt anyone?"

The principal shook her head.

"Made any threats?"

Another no.

"Caused any problems besides drawing a strange picture and refusing to talk to the psychologist?"

Another head shake.

"Then what's the problem,?" asked Tim, forcing himself to lean back in his chair in an effort to appear more relaxed than he actually was.

The principal blushed and looked up at the psychologist. Tim couldn't remember ever in his life having talked to anyone the way he had just now. Stringing together a coherent layer of logic instead of just retreating inside of himself and waiting for the storm to pass. The last few years with Al had definitely taught him a few things.

The psychologist attempted to stammer through an explanation, but Tim was done.

"Look, Child Services had a lot to do without investigating bullshit cases, pardon my language please, ma'am, but I'm damn angry. You drag every kid who draws a weird picture into talk to you and Dr. Andrews?"

"No, but TJ has been through some trauma and has been under extreme stress recently," said Principal Higgins, attempt to regain her composure and control of the meeting.

"Yes, so I don't think we should add to it." Tim stood up and extended his hand to the principal. "Ma'am, thank you for letting me know about this. My wife and I will talk to TJ tonight. I assure you, he's not going to set anyone on fire."

"I guess I'll just take him home then, since the day is nearly over." After the principal had nodded her consent, Tim turned and walked out without acknowledging the doctor at all.

Luck was with him, for once, as he rushed past the front desk, relieved to see that Joanie was no longer there. Out in the hallyway, he stood next to TJ.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's go," said Tim softly, holding out a hand to his nephew. TJ wiped his face on his arm, stood up, and gingerly took Tim's hand. It wasn't much, but maybe it was a start.


	46. Chapter 46

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

On the drive over to the garage, TJ kept his face pressed against the window and said nothing. Tim glanced over at him a couple of times, but figured it was better to leave the kid alone. In fact, he thought that for now, he preferred the silence. Tim wanted to talk to Al about everything first.

Tim parked the truck on the street outside the garage and got out, holding his door open so that TJ wouldn't have to open his own door and step out on the street. The boy slid across the seat and jumped down to the sidewalk in one fluid motion. As they walked toward the garage, Tim felt little fingers wrap around his index finger. He looked down and TJ looked up at him through his bangs, a half-smile edging onto his face.

Tim pulled open the door and walked into the garage, his eyes scanning the open space for Al. He saw D'Andre working on a compact Toyota on the lift. Lauren peeked around the open hood of a Ford near the desk. Tim waved to her and kept walking, spotting Al's feet sticking out from underneath a pickup truck on the other side of the room.

Relieved that Jake was nowhere in sight, because he felt that one Mr. Mom crack out of the kid just might send him over the edge, Tim took TJ back to the break room and got him a juice. Then he took the boy into Billy's office and settled him into one of the chairs. Billy's desk was organized perfectly, papers in the correct basket and pens in a coffee mug. Tim found a car magazine on the top of a filing cabinet and handed it to TJ, telling him he'd be back soon and not to leave the room.

Lauren or D'Andre must have told Al that he was here, because Tim practically ran her over in the hallway. Her forehead was wrinkled in confusion and he could read concern in her eyes. He took her hand and dragged her out the back door.

It was chilly outside, but he wanted to make sure they weren't overheard. He took off his jacket and held it out so Al could slip into it. She tried to wave him off, but he shook the jacket like a matador and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and turned around, slipping her arms into the sleeves as he gently settled the jacket on her shoulders, then pulled her tight against him.

"I'm not complaining about seeing you or anything, but what's going on?" she asked. Tim sighed and reluctantly let her go, then walked over and sat in one of the lawn chairs, motioning for Al to sit down next to him.

"TJ kind of got in trouble at school," said Tim. He quickly summarized the events of the afternoon and then told her the drawing was in his jacket pocket.

She pulled out the paper, unfolded it and then looked up at Tim, who looked helpless and miserable.

"I'm sorry, Timmy, I should have said something to you yesterday but we were both asleep on our feet by the time we got everyone settled in bed."

"What are you apologizing for?" asked Tim.

"When I put him to bed last night, he told me he wanted to fire Billy. We talked about it and he does know that firing someone has nothing to do with actual fire. It's just, he's a very visual kid and this is how he processes things."

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I couldn't say it that good, but I thought the teacher kind of over-reacted. It just feels sometimes like they treat him different, like they expect the worst from him."

Al reached out and took his hand. "I know, but you stood up for him and that counts for something."

Tim shrugged. "What do we do now? I don't want him to think he's in trouble for the picture, but I don't want him to think he can just have a meltdown and lash out without any consequences."

"Then that's what we'll tell him. No cartoons tomorrow morning – he has to come in here with me and work on inventory."

"Ouch. Isn't that kinda harsh?" asked Tim.

"No. It won't be that long or horrible and it'll give him a little adult time, a chance to talk if he wants to, plus a bit of responsibility and accomplishment. It'll be good for him," said Al, sounding more convinced about the idea the longer she talked about it.

Tim nodded and stood up. "When are you doing this? I didn't even know you had inventory to do."

"Timmy, this place is a shambles. Seriously. And the oil change place – did Billy supervise them at all?"

He hung his head and avoided her eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I thought I was on top of things enough but I guess I wasn't."

"It's not your fault, Timmy. I will need you to watch the kids tomorrow morning. I'm thinking from eight until eleven. Then, tomorrow afternoon, you're playing golf with Eric."

"I'm doing what?" asked Tim.

"Golf, with Eric. Tami said he hated his temporary golfing buddy and I suggested that if I was back at work, it was time for you to get back to golf."

Tim smiled. He'd missed golf, but he never would have said anything to Al. She had needed his help too much.

Al stood up and held out a hand to Tim. "C'mon. Let's go talk to him before we forget what we're going to say."

"How can you forget what you don't really know in the first place?" he asked with a smile as her pulled her in for a hug.

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Tim managed to get to the golf course ten minutes early, but Coach Taylor was already there, standing next to his car, enjoying the unusually warm and sunny day. Tim got out of the truck, reached back and grabbed his bag of clubs out of the truck bed. He walked over to Coach, who held out his hand and gave Tim a firm shake and a wide smile.

"Boy am I glad to see you," said Coach. "When Tami told me you were ready to play again, I thought all my birthdays and Christmases had come at once."

Tim grinned and looked down as they made their way toward the clubhouse. "I'm sure you didn't miss _me_ that much – your temporary partner musta been a nightmare."

"You don't know the half of it, son."

"Anybody I know?"

"Yeah, you know him – that Lance kid. Played on the special teams, used to date Tyra."

"Landry?"

"Yeah, Lance, just what I said," grinned Coach. "Damn, does that kid ever shut up?"

"No, sir, I don't think so. I thought he was living in Austin."

"He was. Moved to Midland last November, I guess it was. Got some fancy engineering job there or something. I never really understood what it was he did."

Tim wondered why he was just finding out now that Landry was living in Midland. He'd thought they were friends, regardless of whether or not Landry and Tyra were together, but maybe he had been wrong. Tim followed Coach Taylor into the office and hung back while he got them checked in. Then they headed out to the course and were able to start right away.

Tim was stiff and out of practice, so he kept quiet and focused on all the little mechanics that went into trying to make a halfway decent shot. Coach Taylor was equally quiet, probably enjoying the peace after a couple of months of golfing with Landry. Their comfortable silence stretched to the fifth hole, where Tim awkwardly sliced a ball into the water.

"Sorry, Coach. I'm a little rusty," said Tim with an apologetic shrug.

"What are you apologizing for? You're giving me a fightin' chance here." Coach Taylor set his ball on the tee and then sent it soaring in a beautiful arc that deposited it on the middle of the green.

"Nice," said Tim appreciatively.

Coach grinned. "Go ahead and take your shot over."

"For real? Are you sure?" asked Tim, unaccustomed to such leniency in the rules.

"Go on now, while I'm still feeling generous."

Tim took another shot, which he at least managed to keep out of the water. Even so, he reckoned he'd lose this hole by at least three strokes. Pathetic, really, he thought to himself with a small shake of his head.

"So, uh, how's your new job going?" asked Coach as they walked over toward the green.

"Good. It's interesting. Every day's different, that's for sure."

"I tell you what, I really envy you," said Coach, leaning on his club as Tim got ready to take a swing.

"Envy me?" Tim shook his head and laughed

"Yes, I envy you. Fixing cars, coaching football, being a lawyer, or a doctor or an Indian chief, all of that is always going to be there. Those are just jobs. Watching your kids grow up, that's a one-time thing." Coach stood in front of his ball, eyed the distance to the hole and selected his favorite putter. He sent a nice curving shot right into the hole.

Tim ran a hand through his hair. "So you don't think it's...you know...weird or strange or whatever that I'm the one at home and Al's the one at work?"

"As long as y'all are happy, what's it matter?"

Tim and Coach lapsed back into silence. Around the fourteenth hole, Coach's jaw twitched and he looked like he was chewing on something. Eventually, he asked the question Tim had been dreading. "So, you hear anything from Billy?"

Tim shook his head and looked down.

"How are the kids doing with it?"

"You know....Cody's too young, Jack's pretty much too young. Amber seems fine, she was upset, but she talks to us about it and she calls Tyra like every day, so I know how she's doing. TJ though....I worry about him. He's just so damn angry."

Coach nodded, but said nothing, which Tim took as sign that he should keep talking.

"I don't know how Billy did it. He was way younger than I am now when he had to step up and take care of me. And, well....I wasn't the easiest kid to deal with."

Tim looked down, hair falling into his face as he twisted his golf club around in his hands. He felt Coach put a hand on his shoulder, so he looked up and met his intense gaze.

"Look, you're giving these kids a solid home life and I can see what they mean to you. Have a little faith here that somehow, it's all going to work out, no matter what else happens."

Tim nodded a few times and then looked away quickly.

They finished up the last few holes with a bit of trash talk and small talk. Tim enjoyed hearing about Gracie's school play and he even pulled out his phone to show Coach a few pictures of Nicky. After they were done playing, Coach asked him if he wanted to go for a drink but Tim shook his head. He and Al had plans to take the kids out to the park, so he really had to get home soon.

Tim tossed his golf bag into the back of his truck and turned to say good-bye to Coach Taylor.

"Hey, those babies of yours, they all take afternoon naps?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Two hours at least, sometimes longer if I'm lucky."

"You think you'd be able to watch game film for me and fill out tendency charts and some short scouting reports? I got a massive backlog and a lot of work to get ready to do next year's offense. Jason can show you what to do."

Tim blinked, surprised by the request. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll pay you per game, of course," said Coach as he opened the trunk of his car and took out a large box of DVDs.

"That's okay, Coach. I'm happy to help."

"Well, son, I'm sure you are, but I've got all this budget and if I don't spend it, then well, next year those little bean counters and penny pinchers will cut my budget, so I will pay you."

"Great....uh, thanks," said Tim as he opened his truck door, took the box from Coach and placed it gently on the floor.

"One more thing," said Coach, pulling a tackling dummy and some shields from the trunk. "I got to buy new equipment, so I have to retire the old stuff and I was thinking maybe you had a future Dillon Panther running around who might get some use out of it."

Tim grinned and thanked Coach, thinking that if there was ever a kid who needed to get out some aggression, it was TJ.


	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When Nicky woke up in the middle of the night, Tim sleepily rolled out of bed on what he called baby-auto-pilot and scooped up his crying son. He'd gotten all the way into the kitchen and fixed a bottle before he realized that he could hear Billy's voice. He couldn't make out the words, but he'd recognize the sound anywhere.

He followed the sound back to the TV room. Hanging back in the shadows near the doorway, Tim looked on as TJ watched the highlight reel that Six had made for Tim to send to college recruiters. It was as though TJ's finger was glued to the rewind button, since he kept watching those 15 seconds over and over again. Tim wondered how long he'd been watching it.

Tim took several steps back and then walked toward the TV room, making enough noise so that he wouldn't surprise the boy.

"Hi, TJ. Whatcha watchin' there?" asked Tim casually, sitting down on the couch.

TJ wiped at his eyes. "Noah gave it to me – he said his daddy made it for you so you could get into college."

Tim nodded and looked down at Nicky, who was happily holding his own bottle. Without TJ rewinding the DVD, it soon played itself out. The television screen went grey, casting a sickly light over the room. TJ slouched at the other end of the couch, his feet up on the cushions.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" asked Tim.

TJ shrugged and kicked his heels against the couch. Tim knew he should say something about kicking the couch, but he just didn't have it in him to enforce every little rule all the time.

"Bad dreams?" asked Tim.

TJ shook his head, sending his shaggy hair flying, which reminded Tim that he really should take the kid for a haircut soon. "Just couldn't sleep."

Tim nodded. "You know, Jay and Noah are coming over tomorrow afternoon for tackling practice and I bet Noah's sleeping right now, getting all rested up for it. That's what you should be doing."

TJ peeled himself off the couch and walked toward Tim, pausing only to kiss the top of Nicky's head. At the door, he waved and mumbled "Good night."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been afraid another one of those talks had been on the horizon and he just didn't know if he could manage another one. They always felt like he was walking a tightrope while juggling flaming swords since he had to carefully select his words while trying to manage the surge of feelings.

The words were hard, but the feelings were harder, since any one of them threatened to catch fire at any time. Protectiveness toward TJ....Anger at Billy and the situation...Worry over how TJ was dealing...Fear of the worst happening...And, most of all, helplessness because Tim really couldn't do anything to either bring Billy back or take away TJ's pain.

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The next afternoon, Amber was at her best friend Sarah's house and the babies and Jack were all napping. In the backyard, Tim and TJ were waiting for Jay and Noah to arrive. They tossed a football back and forth while George bounded around between them, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and his ears flopping with each step. Looking at the dog made Tim smile. He couldn't help it: he loved that big, dumb dog.

Noah pushed open the side gate and Jay wheeled in behind him. Tim was always impressed with Jay's upper-body strength and the way he could handle nearly any terrain. Noah was wearing shoulder pads underneath one of his father's old practice jerseys.

"C'mere, TJ," called Jay, lifting up another set of shoulder pads. "Let's get you dressed."

"Hey, Noah, do me a favor and go ask Al to get one of my practice jerseys. Tell her they're in the bottom dresser drawer and make sure you say 'please' and smile. She's a sucker for a sweet smile."

Noah grinned and nodded, then dashed into the house, emerging with a jersey a few minutes later.

Tim whistled George over to him. "Good boy. Now lay down."

The dog flopped to the ground with a sigh. Tim leaned down and scratched his ears. "Good boy. Stay."

Tim didn't really know if George would stay still. He had been running pretty steadily for awhile, so Tim hoped the dog would be tired enough to sleep. George seemed willing to oblige, closing his eyes nearly immediately.

When TJ was ready, Jay had them both stand in front of him and raise their right hands.

"OK, this is serious stuff, so I need you to make some really important promises. Repeat after me: I solemnly swear-"

"Uh, Dad, you said we're not allowed to swear," said Noah.

Tim covered his grin with a hand and tried to stifle a laugh.

"Different kind of swearing, Noah. You're not allowed to curse. This kind of swearing is just promising, okay?"

Noah nodded and Jay continued, "OK, then, repeat after me: I solemnly swear..."

"To only practice with my team or with Uncle Timmy...."

"I promise to never, ever use tackling for evil or fighting..."

"And, most importantly, I promise to always, always, always, ALWAYS keep my head up..."

After Noah and TJ finished the pledge, Jay looked at Tim. "Okay, Timmy, they're all yours."

"You guys both right-handed?" Tim asked, pausing long enough to see both boys nod. "OK, then we're going to tackle with our right shoulders today. You'll learn how to tackle from either side. It's just easier to learn one side at a time."

Tim broke down the basics of tackling into separate parts and had them practice each part before moving onto the next. They began with the starting stance – a low crouch with their backs straight and their heads up.

When Tim was satisfied that they were able to do that, he showed them how to come off the line of scrimmage, taking a short step with the left foot and then exploding into the second step while bringing the shoulder into an imaginary defender.

"OK. You know how to start, you know how to get to the guy. Now's the part where you learn how to hit the guy," said Tim, dragging over the tackling dummy.

TJ and Noah looked at each other with wide, excited eyes.

Tim moved slowly, talking through everything he was doing – drive the shoulder, keep your eyes open, keep your head up, slide your head away from your tackling shoulder, grab the arms, lift and snap, keep your legs moving.

He demonstrated the tackle several times, speeding up each time until he was finally hitting at a decent speed. It had been several years and Tim had forgotten how good, how freeing, it felt to hit something that hard. Slightly out of breath, he picked up a shield and crouched down in front of the boys.

"You ready?" he asked.

Both boys nodded and TJ stepped back to let Noah go first. Noah's first try was tentative, careful.

"Not too shabby. Good job keeping your head up, just come a little faster next time," said Tim.

TJ's first try was a solid hit, but his chin dipped when he made contact

"Good solid hit, but you gotta make sure you keep your head up. I'm serious about that, TJ," Tim said.

TJ nodded and stole a look at Jason, who caught him looking, smiled and said, "One broken neck is enough, don't you think?"

Noah and TJ took turns, improving each time. Tim was focused on preparing for each hit and then praising and correcting. He soon lost count of the number of repetitions, his mind slipping off into football-land where adrenalin and physical activity blocked out all thoughts.

It was exactly that state of mind that allowed George to get a tackle in. The dog had apparently had a good long nap and was ready to join in the fun. Tim had just taken a hit from Noah when a large grey blur smashed into his chest, knocking him to the ground.

He looked up at George's lolling tongue and grinning face and had to laugh, which caused TJ, Noah and Jay to laugh too. Tim got up off the ground, grabbed George's collar, and walked him over to the sliding glass back door. He slid the door opened and let the dog trot inside, then he quickly closed it, trapping George on the other side. To avoid looking at the dog's mournful eyes, Tim turned quickly and headed back to where the boys were waiting.

"What do you think, Six, are we done here for today?" Tim asked.

Noah and TJ pleaded for more practice and Jay pretended to consider it for several long seconds before saying, "Maybe a few more."

Since he was getting tired, Tim kept careful track of their tackles.

"OK, boys, last one. Make it count," he said when they came up on their fifth turns.

Noah lined up, waited for his father to call for the snap and then burst forward toward Tim, knocking him off balance.

"Love it! That was great, Noah," said Tim, smiling.

Tim watched as TJ lined up, an intense look on his face and then suddenly, he was flying toward Tim, before Jay had called the snap and before Tim was ready for him.

Tim's breath was knocked out of him as TJ crashed into him and then kept on driving, exactly as he'd been instructed. It was over in a second. Tim hit the ground hard, TJ falling on top of him, the boy's bony shoulder whacking Tim in the mouth.

TJ rolled over and looked at Tim, who was trying to laugh but hadn't quite gotten his breath back.

"Uncle Timmy, you're bleeding," said Noah, anxiously looking at his dad. Tim brought his hand to his mouth and could feel the blood, not a lot, but enough to frighten two young boys.

TJ's face went red and Tim could see his eyes filling up with tears. Tim struggled into a sitting position and brought his knees up so he could rest his forearms on them.

"It's okay, TJ. I'm fine. Really. I must have bit my lip when I hit the ground. That was an awesome tackle," said Tim, still a little breathless.

"Really?" asked TJ.

"Yes, it was awesome and yes, I'm just fine. It was partly my fault anyway, I should have been more ready. But there woulda been an offside flag on that play. You can't come off the line before the ball is snapped."

Tim stood up and held out a hand to help TJ up. Then he grinned and gave each of the boys a fist bump. "Good work. You guys have any questions?"

Noah looked at TJ and shrugged. TJ looked up at Tim, a strangely fierce expression on his face.

"Is my dad still alive?"

Tim felt like a swimmer surprised by a riptide. He knew if he fought against the current of the conversation, he'd become exhausted and start drowning in it. Best to swim parallel to shore and hope to get free of the worst of it.

"I think so, TJ. I don't know any more about where he is than you do, but I believe he's alive," said Tim, his anger with Billy simmering in the back of his mind.

"But you don't know for sure?"

Tim shook his head. "I don't. Remember when I told you that I'd always tell you the truth? Well, sometimes, the truth is that I don't know anything. I know that's not great to hear, that you'd feel better if someone knew something, but that's just the way it is right now."

TJ nodded, his face pensive as he considered Tim's answer. "Do you think he's going to come back?"

Tim crouched in front of TJ and put a hand on his shoulder, which felt foreign, too wide and plastic due to the shoulder pads.

"At a certain point, you might have to let yourself think that he might not come back. And I know, believe me, I know exactly how much that hurts. But sometimes, you have to take a hit and keep moving, do you know what I mean?"

"Keep driving. Keep moving your legs," said TJ slowly, like he was repeating a gospel truth.

"Exactly. I don't know what all is going to happen, but I can tell you this: you and your brothers and sister, you will always be taken care of, whether its me and Al, or your dad. You don't have to worry about that. We clear?"

TJ nodded. Tim straightened up and took a deep breath. "Now, when I let George in the house, I happened to spy, with my little eye, a certain curly-haired aunt making what seemed to be cookies. But, you know what, I couldn't see what kind they were."

TJ grinned. "Me and Noah could go find out."

"I was hoping you might be willing to do that. You go in there and tell her you're quality control and you need to test the cookies."

"Do you think that will work?" asked Noah.

"I think it just might," said Tim as he waved the boys off toward the house.

"Man, Timmy," said Jay in a low voice after the kids were gone.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just....That right there? That was something."

Tim put his hands on his hips and looked down. It didn't feel like something to Tim. It felt like another conversation, flailing around and feeling helpless because he couldn't comfort his nephew.

"That," said Jay, wheeling over so he was directly in front of his best friend, "was like that touchdown pass you threw to Saracen at State. Completely unexpected, a bit unorthodox, some hitches in the form but, somehow, an amazing thing of beauty. A perfect pass."

"So, what you're saying is I didn't say the wrong thing?"

"Correct. Honestly, Tim, I don't think I've ever heard you talk that much at once."

"Sure you have, Six. Don't you remember we'd stay up all night in that rickety-ass treehouse, putting together fantasty football teams and making plays for them?"

"No, that was different. That was just talking. This, this was _talking_. About real feelings and stuff."

Tim sighed and looked Jay. "Thanks, Six. Most of the times, it feels like nothing I say is ever going to be enough."

"No, Timmy, it's probably not. But you're there for him and that's enough."

The sliding glass door opened and Al stuck her head out. "If you want some cookies, you better come in here before your quality control experts eat them all."

Jay grinned and began wheeling himself toward the door, Tim trailing behind him.


	48. Chapter 48

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

On Friday night, Al drew the short straw and had to put Jack and Amber to bed. Tim had to laugh, since Jack had recently learned the delaying tactic of repeatedly saying he had to go to the bathroom. Could be true, could be a lie, but are you really going to chance it? And, of course, Amber's stories with their casts of hundreds and complicated plots were becoming legendary.

Tim got TJ and Cody to bed without any difficulties. He hit a bit of a speed bump with Nicky, whose first tooth was making him unusually fussy. Even so, Tim was surprised that Al was already on the couch before he was.

Tim sat down next to her and watched as she painstakingly tried to complete a cross-stitch project. He found it sort of funny that her hands, so skilled when it came to fixing car engines, could be so clumsy when it came to embroidery.

"Tell me again why you're doing that," he said, sliding up close to her and putting his chin on her shoulder.

"Because it's relaxing," she said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, I can see that. You've never seemed more relaxed. Better than a vacation on the beach," he said, leaning forward slightly to get a better look down her shirt.

"Hey, you're in my light," she protested.

"Sorry," he murmured, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her neck.

He heard her let out a deep breath and could sense her smile. Encouraged, he put one hand on her knee and used the other to brush her curls aside to give him room to roam.

"Shit," she said, jumping suddenly.

"What's wrong?" he leaned back, concerned that he'd done something to hurt her.

"Oh nothing, you just sort of distracted me and I stabbed myself with the needle."

He smirked. "You know, I could kiss that and make it better for you."

"Kiss it and make it septic, more like," she said.

"You're right. Here, I'll kiss the other one instead, since it's the thought that counts, right? Which one was it?"

"Index."

He gently held her hand in both of his and brought it up to his mouth. He put a whisper-light kiss on the tip of her index finger, then slowly slid it into his mouth, his tongue tracing a pattern, soft lips hot on her skin. He kept his eyes locked on hers, enjoying the desire he saw developing there. When he heard her breath catch in her throat, he knew he had her. He slid her finger all the way into his mouth, then slowly pulled it out.

"There you go, should be all better now," he said in a soft, deep voice. "I guess you can go back to your sewing now."

Al gave him a wicked grin that made his knees go a little weak. "Like hell I can."

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in for an urgent, searching kiss. Her other hand was all light touches, moving across his body faster than he could keep track of. He growled low in his throat and grabbed her hips, pulling her up and around so she was straddling his lap. Her lips trailed kisses down his cheek and across his jawline. Soon, she was unbuttoning his shirt while kissing the newly exposed skin of his shoulders and chest.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, freezing in place.

"Hear what?" he asked, out of breath. The only thing he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears.

She pulled back and cocked her head to the side, listening. "It sounds like....." she trailed off as a puzzled expression settled onto her face. "Honestly, it sounds like a lawn mower."

"No. I don't hear it. Come back here," he said as he put a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Much to his disappointment, the kiss lasted less than five seconds before she was back to insisting that she could hear a lawn mower.

"Al, honey, you're killing me. You listen to the lawn mower. I've got stuff to do," he rumbled, leaning forward to run his tongue along her collarbone. He felt her relax as she ran her fingers through his hair, then went back to the fingertip touches that gave him the chills.

"I can't hear it anymore," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands and tilting his chin up so she could lean down and kiss him.

Tim thought he heard breaking glass, but decided he was just imagining things after the phantom lawn mower. He slipped his hands under her shirt and ran them up her back, feeling hard muscles under soft skin.

The sound of pounding on the door was unmistakable, as was the muffled shouting that followed it. Tim stood up quickly and held Al steady until her feet were on the floor.

"Stay here," he told her, backing away for a few steps before turning and moving swiftly to the door. As he got closer, the shouting began to take shape, solidifying into words and a distinct voice.

"Tim! Let me in! I need to see my kids."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, running both hands through his hair. Then he stood up straight, buttoned his shirt and opened the door.

"Billy, you need to quiet down. They're sleeping. Everyone is sleeping." Tim pushed open the screen door and stepped out, closing the main door behind him. He took a step forward, which caused Billy to take two steps back, edging down the ramp that they'd had put in when they built the house.

"I need to see my kids," insisted Billy, his boots crunching on the broken glass of a beer bottle. In the dim light, Tim could see his motorcycle on the ground about 100 feet away.

"Not like this, Billy. You get cleaned up, sobered up and come over during the daytime. Then you can see them."

"Dammit, Tim. This is like kidnapping! I'm their father, not you."

"I know that," said Tim, keeping his voice calm but firm.

"Then who d'you think you are, keepin' them from me?" Billy's words were slurred, his eyes were fuzzy and his mouth had taken on a particularly mean set.

"I'm the guy you asked to take care of them if anything happened to you and Mindy."

"I'm not dead though."

"No, but you're not in any shape to care of them. So, until then, that's my job."

Billy looked down and nodded slowly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. As Billy turned to leave, Tim let out a deep breath, relaxing,relieved that the situation seemed to have been defused.

Tim didn't see it coming: Billy turned back on him and tried to push past him like he was just a defensive end in the way of a super-star running back. Tim might not have seen it coming, but he had several pounds of muscle, a couple of inches of height and much better reflexes. Tim burst forward, driving his shoulder into Billy, gripping his arms, and half-pushing, half-carrying him down the ramp, their momentum sending them into Tim's truck, which was parked right in front of the house.

Tim pinned Billy up against the truck and took half a step back, still keeping him in place but giving them both some breathing room.

"You seeing them like this, it's not going to help them or you. You need to get your act together, Billy."

In the dim light, Tim watched the fight drain out of his brother's eyes as his face crumpled. Billy's head dropped, his forehead brushing Tim's shoulder, all choking sobs and heaving shoulders. Before Tim really understood what was happening, he found was holding and comforting his brother, for the first time in his life. Tim reckoned that the number of times they'd even hugged wouldn't reach the low double-digits, so it felt incredibly strange to have Billy clinging to him like a drowning man.

Tim waited for the worst of it to pass, then firmly squeezed Billy's shoulders , let go and took two steps back. He reached forward and opened the truck door.

"Get in the truck. I'll take you home."

"N-huh. No way. I can't go back there. It reminds me too much of Mindy."

Tim sighed and thought for a minute. "It's okay. I've got somewhere else you can stay. Just get in the truck. Please."

Billy got into the truck without further argument, sitting with his hands in his lap and his shoulders slumped, like a little kid in trouble. Tim closed the door so it didn't make a lot of noise, then headed back into the house.

He found Al in the kitchen, making sandwiches. A pot of coffee brewed on the counter. Tim leaned against the counter and watched her put the sandwiches into ziplock bags, which she then put into a brown paper bag. When the coffee was done, she poured into a thermos and dug a couple of travel mugs out of the cupboard.

"You ready?" she asked, leaning into his side. He slid an arm around her and pulled her close.

"No," he sighed, shaking his head. "Jesus, I've got no idea what to say to him."

"You'll be fine. He's your brother and you love him and the important thing here is that he's home. Just remember all of that."

Tim rubbed his hand over his face, then pushed himself away from the counter. "OK. Ready or not, here I go, I guess."

Tim went over to the back door and lifted his jeans jacket from the hook. He put it on and took the thermos and bag from Al.

"You have your phone?" she asked. He patted his pocket and nodded.

"OK, call me if you're going to be spending the night with him."

"Don't wait up," he said, kissing her forehead.

"I'm not going to, but you wake me up if you need to talk," she said, then hooked a finger through his belt loop and smiled up at him, "Or something."

"Count on it," he said and lightly kissed her lips and then left before he was distracted any more. Stepping out into the chilly night air, Tim shook his head to focus his mind. He was going to need every bit of concentration he could gather to get through the conversation he had to have with Billy.


	49. Chapter 49

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When Tim got back to the truck, Billy was sleeping , his head leaned up against the window, mouth open, lightly snoring. Tim was relieved to have a few minutes to think about things. He turned the truck around and drove up the road, but instead of taking the left for the main road , he veered onto a dirt and gravel road.

He drove slowly, trees and brush on each side making it seem like the road was closing in on them. When he got to the end of the road, just a small clearing near the lake, he stopped the car and gently shook Billy's shoulder.

"C'mon, we're here," said Tim.

Billy awoke with a start and looked around, confused and groggy. "What the hell, Tim? This where you leave me for dead?"

Tim bit back a smart remark about how Billy was capable of doing that all by himself. Al's words echoed in his head. _The important thing is that he's home. _"No. I got that little cabin a few minutes from here. Road ends here though, we gotta walk the rest of the way."

The cabin had been on the land when Al bought it, but it had been in disrepair, the roof barely keeping the rain out and a total wreck inside. Tim had insisted on working on most of it himself. He hired an electrician and a plumber for those parts, but the rest he did slowly, working with Al on the weekends, a few hours and little projects at a time.

Tim grabbed the thermos and bag of sandwiches, then reached behind the seat and pulled out a couple of flashlights. He handed one to Billy and then they got out of the truck and headed down a narrow, twisting path. Tim lead the way, Billy stumbling along behind him.

The cabin was in the middle of a wide, grassy clearing. It wasn't much, just one big room, really, with a small bathroom that he'd added on. Tim opened the door and stepped inside, fumbling for the light switch. The walls were only half-painted, a ladder still standing in the corner next to painting supplies, and the furniture was pushed into the middle of the room, covered with sheets.

Tim pulled off the sheets and pushed the couch and a couple of easy chairs into place. "We kinda put this all on hold when Al got pregnant. It's got plumbing and electricity. I wouldn't drink the water but there's plenty of bottled water in the pantry."

Billy stumbled over and collapsed onto the couch. Tim handed Billy the bag of sandwiches, then poured him a mug of coffee and placed it carefully on a side table. Then he poured himself a mug of coffee and settled into his favorite chair, a beat-up, blue denim armchair wide enough that he could sit comfortably with George curled up next to him.

It was chilly in the room, but not unbearable. Tim debated starting a fire but decided against it. He sipped his coffee, hands wrapped around the mug to soak up its heat. He glanced up at Billy a few times, only to catch him hurriedly looking away. Tim wasn't trying to make his brother uncomfortable, he just didn't know how to start the conversation and decided he'd let Billy do it when he was ready.

"I'm sorry," Billy finally said, looking down into his coffee like it held all the answers. "I just....I don't know what I was thinking. It was just like everything caught up with me, like an avalanche or something, and I couldn't take it anymore."

"It's been three and a half weeks, Billy, where the hell were you?"

"Eventually, I ended up in Key West. I just kept heading east and south....Dallas, Shreveport, New Orleans, Mobile, Panama City, Tampa, Miami....I felt like what's his name....David? Bruce? Dr. Banner, you know....the guy who turns into the Incredible Hulk, outcast and wandering from place to place."

"Except instead of turning into a giant green monster, you turn into a selfish asshole."

Billy cringed as Tim's words hit their mark. Tim felt bad, but it felt better to release some of the steam that was building inside him. Maybe Al was right, maybe the important thing now was that Billy was home, but Tim couldn't let go of his anger that easily.

"Sorry, Billy, that was a low blow," Tim mumbled.

Billy rubbed his face. "Nah, I deserve that. I know. That and worse."

"Jesus, Billy, why didn't you call or something? Do you know what it's been like, worrying about you all this time?"

"I don't know, Tim. I kept telling myself y'all would be better off without me. The days just start to bleed together and the more time that passed, the harder it was to explain why I was gone and the easier it got to just stay gone. Completely gone," Billy's words trailed off and he stared into the distance, lost in his own thoughts.

"So, what changed your mind, then, why did you come back?"

"Couldn't sleep one night, I was in one of those scuzzy, by-the-week motel rooms and I was watching TV. That movie with Nicholas Cage..._Leaving Las Vegas_ came on."

Tim looked down, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

"Are you laughing at me, Timmy? Because I can tell you right now, it's not funny," said Billy, biting off his words in annoyance.

Tim looked up at his brother and held his gaze for several seconds before speaking. "I seen it, Billy. That time I was in South Padre."

"Oh," said Billy, mollified. "Then you get it. Probably the most depressing movie ever made. But it's not all that made me come back. When I was finally able to fall asleep, I dreamed about Mindy, mostly about how much she'd kick my ass when she found out how badly I'd messed things up. And so, it took a few days but here I am."

Tim sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Billy, I get that you're hurting and everything, but do you realize what you've done?"

Billy rubbed the top of his head and fidgeted. He stared out the dark window for a few minutes, the silence stretching between them. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. "You ever wonder if maybe there's this part of Dad inside you, like a time bomb or a cancer, just waiting there, and one day, it'll go off and you'll be just like him? You ever worry about that?"

Tim shrugged. "Not really."

"You know how Al's always saying that it's a woman's job to civilize her man?"

Tim grinned and nodded. Al's definition of civilization pretty much amounted to not throwing your beer caps everywhere and to always picking up your socks and underwear off the floor.

"What if Mindy was the only thing keeping me from turning into Dad? She _never_ woulda let me get away with any of his bullshit. What if she was the only thing that kept me in line?"

"Nah, Billy, it doesn't work like that. You got a choice in the matter, you always got a choice."

"Timmy, I need my kids back."

Tim took a deep breath. _Don't think, just react. Act like you know what you're doing._ When Tim spoke, his voice was clear, his face serious. "It stops now, Billy. Tonight. Like Al's grandma used to say 'the cat has hit the floor'....no more free-falling.

"You'll stay here, in the cabin. You'll go back to work. We'll ease you back into being with the kids, start with dinner a few nights a week and go from there."

"I was thinking more like tomorrow morning, you give me the keys to the minivan and let me take them home."

"It don't work like that, Billy."

"Tim, this is starting to feel like kidnapping again."

Tim ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed his face, counting backwards from 20 in an attempt to cool his anger. "I mean it, Billy. I'm deadly serious. You can't just walk back in here and expect everything to be the way it was."

"Kids are resilient, they bounce back," muttered Billy.

"Yeah, they are, to a point. But they're also sensitive and they got long memories and can have fragile trust. TJ....especially TJ. Billy, you got no idea how he's been feeling. Last weekend, he asked me if you were dead. Do you know what that's like? To try to explain something you can barely even understand to a kid like that?"

Billy looked down as his face flushed red. "OK, Tim, that's fine. I get it. But why do I hafta stay out here all by myself?"

"For one thing, it could be confusing and disruptive to the kids. It's gotta wait until you're ready to be a full-time father and you've proven that you can handle the responsibility. And Billy, you gotta relearn how to take care of yourself. How to stand on your own two feet again."

Billy nodded but said nothing and refused to make eye contact. Tim waited him out, listening to the wind outside. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Billy whispered, "OK, Timmy, whatever you say. Just please, help me."

Tim stood up, feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. He went over to the closet and took out a sleeping bag, pillow and a couple of blankets, which he brought over and dropped on the couch next to his brother.

"We gotta do better by our kids, that's what you said to me once. Before this, I looked up to you, Billy. I thought you were the kind of dad I wanted to me. I know you still have that guy, somewhere inside of you. He might have gotten a little lost, but he's still there. You bring that guy back here and it's all going to be fine."

Tim turned to go, but Billy caught his wrist. "Timmy, thank you.....for everything."

"No worries," murmured Tim, giving him a small smile before he left.


	50. Chapter 50

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The next day, Tim put the babies and Jack down for early naps to give Al and him a chance to talk to Amber and TJ before Tim left for golf. The conversation went pretty much the way Tim had expected. Amber was happy and excited to see Billy. TJ was stone-faced and not very responsive. Al tried to tell TJ that the important thing to remember was that his dad was back now and would be seeing them very soon, the next day in fact, but TJ didn't seem inclined to buy what she was selling.

Tim had dreaded having one of the kids ask why, if Billy was back, they weren't going to be living with him right away. He was relieved when neither child asked. Maybe they were happy where they were, maybe they just hadn't thought of it, either way, it meant Tim was off the hook on that one for at least a little while. He was able to spend a few hours hanging out with Coach Taylor, not thinking about anything except which club to use for his next swing.

On his way home from the golf course, Tim stopped at Billy's house and picked up some clothes for him. Then he stopped by the grocery store and picked up bread, milk, cereal, lunch meat, ice cream. You know, all the essentials. When he got to the cabin, he found Billy watching bowling on television.

"Jeez, Billy, the only thing more boring than actually bowling is watching it," said Tim, as he dropped Billy's duffle bag of clothes on the floor next to the couch and then walked over to the counter to unpack the groceries.

"Well, the choices were this, a Power Rangers movie or skiing."

"Skiing – that's the way to go," asserted Tim.

Billy shook his head. "It's the same thing, one guy flying down the hill after the next. Gets boring after awhile."

"Yeah, Billy, and each frame of bowling is completely different. At least with skiing, there's a chance of someone wiping out in spectacular fashion." Tim put the ice cream in the freezer and then sat down across from Billy.

Sensing the banter was over, Billy sat up straight and looked at Tim. "When can I see my kids, Timmy?"

"Come over for dinner tomorrow, stop by around five so you can spend some time with them before."

Billy nodded, a look of relief crossing over his face. "Do they know where I'm staying?"

"No. They don't know anything about this place. They're meant to stay on the other side of our house, toward Jay's place and, as far as I know, they do."

"Good, then I guess I'll see them tomorrow." Billy struggled to smile.

"You doing okay?" Tim asked in a concerned voice.

Billy nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. A little hungover and tired, but fine."

Tim stood up. "Your motorcycle's out front, I brought it back here this morning."

"Great, thanks, Timmy. I appreciate that....and everything else."

"I know you do," said Tim as he left.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

The next day, the door bell rang a couple of minutes before five.

"I'll get it!" shouted Amber, racing out of the television room and toward the front door. Tim followed her, arriving in time to see her pull open the front door. Billy was standing awkwardly on the front porch, like a gawky teenager nervous about his first date. His hair was damp and had been combed down, his carefully-selected shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat.

Amber pushed open the screen door and flew into his arms. Billy stood there, slightly stunned but grateful. Tim gave him a small smile and hoped that he didn't expect TJ to react that way. After their joyous reunion, Amber grabbed Billy's hand and dragged him into the house, pulling him back to the television room. Billy barely had time to shout a hello to Al, who was starting dinner in the kitchen.

Tim hovered in the doorway of the tv room, nervous for Billy. Jack looked away from the television, shook his head and stood up, a big grin on his face. He greeted Billy only less enthusiastically than Amber did.

TJ never removed his gaze from the tv. When Billy greeted him, TJ gave a small wave, more dismissive than welcoming and turned his head to ensure he didn't catch a glimpse of his father in his peripheral vision. Billy swallowed hard and looked at Tim, his eyes hurt. Tim started to say something to TJ, but Billy stopped him with a raised hand and a shake of his head.

Billy sat down in the middle of the couch, which caused TJ to slide onto the floor and scoot as far away as possible, still never looking away from the television. Amber sat next to Billy and Jack sat in his lap. Tim went out to the kitchen and brought Cody in to Billy, who teared up when he saw how much the baby had changed in the last few weeks.

"Look at that, two new teeth," said Billy softly.

"Yeah, Daddy. He can pull himself up but he can't quite stand yet. But I think he'll be walking soon," said Amber.

Tim slipped out of the room and joined Al in the kitchen. She greeted him with a hug then went back to chopping vegetables.

"How'd it go?"

Tim sighed. "About how we expected, only TJ was even worse."

"Ouch. Poor kid. Billy knows to just give him time, right?"

"Yeah. I guess so. What's for dinner?"

"Shepherd's pie. You want to start peeling the potatoes?"

"No," said Tim with a grin. "But, for you, I will anyway."

An hour and a half later, they were sitting down to dinner in the sort of controlled chaos that Tim and Al were used to. Nicky was in his swing and Cody was in a high chair, but he'd already had his dinner so he was just gnawing on a teething cookie. Tim found teething cookies to be the most disgusting baby thing in the world, but if it bought them time to eat dinner in peace, then he would tolerate them.

Amber was practically glued to Billy's side but TJ continued to act colder than a day in Antarctica. Billy tried several times to engage him conversation but the boy barely responded. About ten minutes into dinner, TJ reached out, took Jack's sippy cup and dangled it just out of reach. Jack grabbed for it and whined.

"TJ. You have three seconds to give that back," said Al in her sternest voice.

The boy gave no indication of hearing or caring about the threat.

Al sighed. "Three, two, one. That's it," she said, getting up from the table to take the cup away from TJ and return it to Jack. "You know the rules for misbehaving at dinner."

"Yes, ma'am," said TJ and pushed his chair back from the table. Without another word, he trudged off to his room.

Billy looked at Al, his eyes wide with respect and amazement. "How did you do that? How come he didn't argue with you?"

Al frowned. "I don't know. That's not really like him at all."

Amber interrupted their conversation to tell Billy one of her stories, which took the rest of dinner and all of dessert. In fact, she had just finished it when Billy stood up and announced it was time for him to go.

"Can't you stay? At least until we go to bed?" pleaded Amber.

Billy shook his head. "No, sorry, Amby, but I'll be back for dinner soon."

"How soon?" she asked, lower lip stuck out petulantly.

Billy looked over her head at Al, then Tim.

"Wednesday night," said Al. "Your dad will be back Wednesday night. You want to walk him out?"

Amber nodded enthusiastically, the import of her mission distracting her from her sadness.

When Amber and Billy had left the room and Jack had dashed off to watch more television, Al picked Cody up out of his high chair and took him over to the sink to clean him up. Tim stood behind her, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Well, how do you think that went?"

She considered the question for a minute and then shrugged. "At least there were no tears, right?"

Tim smiled ruefully. "It can only get better, I guess. Everybody's got to start somewhere."


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

Al called Tim the next morning around 10am. He picked up the phone, half-expecting to hear that Billy hadn't shown up for work.

"Everything okay?" he asked before Al had a chance to say anything.

"Yep. Just wanted to let you know that Billy came to work early _and_ he made coffee so that it was waiting for me when I got in."

"For real?" Tim was relieved and pleased. He knew it was just the first day, but still, it felt good to know that Billy was making an effort.

"For real. The coffee was good too."

"I see. So what you're saying is my brother makes better coffee than I do. Should I be worried?" asked Tim jokingly.

"Nope. I'm keeping you. I should get back to work."

"Can you please pick up some diapers on your way home?"

"For Nicky or Cody?"

"Well....both actually. I meant to ask you yesterday when you went to the store, but I forgot."

"That's fine. You going to be okay until after work or do you need me to bring them over at lunch?"

Tim smiled. "Well, you know....I wouldn't mind seeing you during the day."

"You wouldn't mind, huh? You'd make time in your busy schedule? Send your girlfriends home early?"

Hearing the gently teasing tone in her voice, Tim closed his eyes and pictured her at work, leaning against the counter and grinning. He loved staying home with the kids, but he was surprised by how much he missed being able to see Al during the day. He'd gotten used to having these sorts of teasing exchanges with her whenever he wanted.

"I miss seeing you during the day, is all," he said softly.

"You better watch out, Tim Riggins, people hear that, they're going to think you've gone completely soft in your old age."

Tim laughed. "OK, would it be better for my manliness if I insisted you come home for a nooner while the kids are napping?"

"Much better," she laughed.

"So, naptime's at 1," he said, voice deep and suggestive.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear a question there, Timmy."

"That's because it's not a question. I'm insisting."

"Oh, well, then, if you're insisting. See you at 1.15," she said in a flirty, throaty voice that made Tim look at the clock and start counting the hours.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

Wednesday evening was Billy's second dinner with his family. When Jay dropped Amber and TJ off at 5pm, Billy and Al had not yet arrived. Amber skipped into the kitchen, TJ sulking behind her.

"Is Daddy here yet? He's coming over tonight, right?" she asked, bouncing around Tim in a way that made him worry she was going to accidently trip over Cody in his walker.

"Yeah, watch your brother there, please," said Tim, who was up to his elbows in three different kinds of lettuce. Before he met Al, he had no idea there were so many different kinds of vegetables.

Amber turned to TJ and stuck out her tongue. "Told you tonight was his night."

TJ rolled his eyes. "I never said it wasn't. I said I thought he wasn't going to show up, not that I thought it wasn't his night. Uncle Timmy, can I have some cookies?"

"No, you'll ruin your appetite."

"Can we watch TV?" asked Amber, pausing in front of Nicky's swing to make faces at him.

"No, it's too nice out and you've been watching too much tv. Go on in the backyard and take Jack with you."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief after Amber and TJ left the kitchen. It had been a rough day, with both babies teething and fussy and Hurricane Jack careening around at full-force all day.

Al arrived before Billy, picked up on Tim's foul mood immediately and sent him to their room with a couple of beers.

"Hey Al," he asked, pausing in the kitchen doorway, "why is it that when you're a kid, it's a punishment to get sent to your room and when you're an adult, it's like a gift?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I don't know, Timmy. One of the mysteries of aging, I guess. I'll let you know when dinner's ready."

Tim nodded and headed off to their room, relishing the quiet and solitude. He was half-way through his second beer when he heard the doorbell ring, followed by Amber's squeal. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes, intending to rest them for a second before going out to greet Billy.

Next thing he knew, TJ was poking him in the arm. "Uncle Timmy, c'mon. Al says dinner is ready."

Tim sat up, groggy and confused. It felt like he'd been asleep for an entire night instead of only 20 minutes. Tim waved TJ off, mumbling that he'd be there soon. TJ shrugged and left the room.

It took Tim several minutes to pull himself together enough to roll out of bed. He went into the bathroom and washed his hands and face, which went a long way toward waking him sufficiently. He shook his hair out of his eyes and headed out to the kitchen, where dinner was already in progress. Amber was practically sitting in Billy's lap while TJ sat as far away as he could get and still be at the same table.

Tim greeted his brother and then went to get a plate of spaghetti and sauce. He sat down at his place and tried to follow Amber's story, although he quickly gave up.

TJ was slumped over his plate, elbows on his table, picking up each individual strand of spaghetti and slurping it off the fork. Tim looked up at Al, who had her Angry Mom look directed right at TJ.

"TJ, you weren't raised in a barn. Use your good table manners or you're going to have to go to your room. Do you hear me?"

TJ rolled his eyes and shrugged. Then, he looked directly at Al and slurped up another strand of spaghetti, just daring her to follow through with the threat.

"Go to your room," said Tim and Al at the same time. TJ pushed his chair back from the table and left without another word, but Tim thought he saw a look of triumph in the boy's eyes.

After TJ left, the mood in the kitchen lightened immeasurably. Billy relaxed and seemed more at home. Amber and Jack both laughed and talked a lot. Only Al and Tim shared troubled looks across the table.

When it was time for Billy to go, he again looked at Al and Tim to confirm when his next visit would be. Al selected Saturday. Then Billy was gone and it was time to clean up, read stories, and put the kids to bed.

Tim finished the bed time duties second and went into the living room where Al was reading a book. He stood behind her and rested a hand gently on her shoulder.

"I'm going to bed," he said.

"Really? It's only 9." She set her book down and bent her neck back to look straight up at him, her expression equal parts concern and confusion.

"I know, but I'm wrecked." He felt it, too, felt every minute of the long day, every power struggle and difficulty that had come up.

"OK. I'll go with you," she said, standing up and walking around the couch, taking his hand as she walked past him toward their room.

"Um, you know, I'm pretty serious when I say I'm wrecked. You understand that, right?" he asked softly as she pulled them into their dark room.

"Yes, but we need to talk about TJ first," she said as she pulled out her pajamas and got changed. Tim stripped down to his boxer shorts and climbed into bed, pulling back the covers on Al's side and leaving his arm stretched out across her pillow so she could curl up against him when she finally crawled into bed.

Al rested her head on Tim's chest, just below his shoulder. Her pajamas were the silky tank top and shorts combination that Tim liked best. They felt cool against his skin and he loved running his hands over the fabric. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, and put his other hand in the middle of back. She put a hand on the center of his chest and the warm weight of it was comforting.

"So, TJ," he began, his voice a whisper so he wouldn't disturb Nicky. "You noticed it too."

"You'd have to be blind not to notice it. He's totally acting out on purpose so he can get sent to his room and not have to spend time with Billy."

Tim sighed. "Damn, I'd hoped I'd been imagining things."

"Nope, Timmy, I think in this case, twice qualifies as a pattern and we need to stop it – quick – so he doesn't learn that being a jerk is the way to get out of things he doesn't want to do."

Tim sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "So, we change the rules?"

Al nodded. "Yeah, what were you thinking?"

Tim closed his eyes and tried to think about what he would have found most oft-putting when he was TJ's age. "No more getting sent to your room – instead, you lose tv time for the night and you have to write an apology."

Al lifted herself up onto her elbow so she could look at Tim. "Wow. Nice. Genius. The apology is a great touch, Timmy. I'm impressed."

"Just tried to think about what I woulda hated doing when I was that age," said Tim with a grin.

Al pressed a kiss on his chest before settling back down. "Better go to sleep then. We'll tell them about the new rules at breakfast tomorrow."

Tim mumbled in agreement, already dropping off to sleep despite his best efforts to keep his eyes open.


	52. Chapter 52

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

The next morning, while the kids were eating their cereal, Al and Tim sat down at the table with them. Tim looked at Al and gave her a small nod. They'd agreed that she'd do most of the talking on this one, since she was more alert in the mornings. The important thing was that they were both in agreement on what needed to be done. The bottom line was that TJ just couldn't act like a brat to get out of family dinners.

"So, Uncle Timmy and I were talking last night and we came to the agreement that we need to change the way the rules work a little bit and we want you guys to understand what these changes."

"You're making more rules?" asked Amber.

"Nope, just making a little change to how the rules we already have work. So, up until now, if you misbehaved, you were asked to stop doing whatever it was and if you didn't stop, you got sent to your room for a time out, right?"

TJ and Amber both nodded.

"That's not going to happen anymore. Now, if you don't stop doing whatever you're asked to stop doing, there's not going to be a time out. Instead, you're going to lose your TV time for that night. And if you keep doing it, you'll lose TV time for the next night. I have a very good memory – so don't think you can act out and I'll forget that you've lost your future TV time."

TJ groaned. "But what are we going to do if we can't watch TV?"

"Great question, I'm so glad you asked. You're going to sit at the kitchen table with either me or Uncle Timmy and write an apology for whatever it was you did."

Amber shrugged noncommittally. Tim could tell she didn't really care about the rule change. She rarely got in trouble anyway. TJ, on the other hand, was not pleased at all. He groaned and dropped his spoon in his cereal, where it landed with a thud.

"You're kidding, right? About the writing? You can't make us write anything. This isn't school." he said.

Al shook her head and looked at Tim.

"TJ, we're serious, deadly serious about this," said Tim, fixing his nephew with a pointed stare.

"I don't believe you," TJ said.

"Try me, pal," said Al, her patience frayed to the breaking point. "Just try me."

Tim looked from his wife to his nephew, determination carved into each of their stubborn faces. Tim dreaded what could happen the first time the new rule had to be enforced. He was afraid it wasn't going to be pretty at all.

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On Saturday afternoon, Billy came over a couple of hours before dinner. Al had suggested that maybe he'd be able to play football with TJ. Tim had thought that sounded like a wildly optimistic plan and he was disappointed to learn that he was right. TJ didn't want anything to do with Billy, not for football or ice cream or anything, really.

TJ's loss was, however, Amber's gain. She took Billy's hand and dragged him back to her room to play tea party or something. Tim didn't want to go too close to the door lest he get pulled into the game.

At dinner, TJ again sat as far away from Billy as possible, but at least he was using reasonable table manners. Pretty soon, Amber launched into one of her stories. Tim never tried to follow these stories anymore, but he could see that Billy was making a real effort, furrowing his brow and nodding in the right places.

"Hold on a second, Amby. Sarah's your best friend. Kelly is her frenemy but who's this Susan girl?" asked Billy. Tim was impressed he'd managed to pick up so many names. Sarah was the only one he recongized.

"Why do you care?" asked TJ, his voice sharp and his eyes angry. "You're never going to meet them because you're just going to be gone soon anyway."

"TJ, don't talk to your father that way. Do I have to remind you what the new rules are?"

TJ gave Tim a half-shrug and bent his head over his plate, but he was just pushing the lasagna around. He didn't appear to have eaten much of anything.

"So, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," said Amber, stressing the last two words while glaring at TJ.

"You're a daddy's girl. That's so babyish and annoying. Noah Street told me that he thinks being a daddy's girl is about the worst thing ever. Seriously," said TJ, rolling his eyes. Amber's face turned red and she started to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"That's it, TJ. You've lost your TV time for tonight," said Tim.

"Can't I just leave the table instead?" whined TJ.

"No, you know the new rules. Now, please, eat your dinner and behave before you lose even more TV time," said Tim, struggling to keep his voice calm and even.

TJ slouched over his plate but kept his mouth shut for the rest of dinner. Still, his outburst had cast a pall over the room and no one really enjoyed dinner very much, except for Cody , who obliviously chewed away on his disgusting teething cookie. Amber stopped crying almost as quickly as she'd started, but she was subdued and couldn't be drawn into continuing her story.

After dinner, TJ and Amber cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. TJ tried to slink off to his room, but Al caught him by the shirt collar and steered him back to the table. Billy looked around the room uneasily and announced that he was leaving and would be back for dinner on Monday.

TJ theatrically hurled himself into a chair and picked up the pencil Tim had set in front of him. He then picked up a piece of construction paper and started to complain. "I can't write on this. I need the paper with the wide lines with the dotted line in the middle, like we use at school."

Al went over to her backpack and pulled out a notepad with perforated edges. "It's your lucky day, TJ. I just happened to stop and pick some up on the way home yesterday."

Tim hid a smile behind his hand. He wasn't at all surprised that his wife had anticipated that they'd been enforcing the new rules so soon.

Tim sat at the table across from TJ and watched the boy squirm and delay. Finally, TJ sighed, picked up the pencil and began to write. When he was done, he slid the sheet across the table to Tim, who picked it up and read it: _Dear Amby, I am sorry I made you cry. And I lied. Noah never said that. Love, TJ_.

Tim nodded and then carefully tore out the page and passed the notebook back to TJ.

"What? I'm done," said TJ.

"No, you're half done. Your sister's not the only one whose feelings you hurt. You also hurt your dad's feelings and you owe him an apology."

TJ shook his head and crossed his arms. "No way. That wasn't the deal. One apology. I didn't even say anything to him."

Tim rubbed his face, took a deep breath and counted backwards as he let it out. "You're a smart kid. You know that what you said was mean, both to Amber and to him."

TJ shrugged and looked up at Tim defiantly. "I'm sorry I made Amber cry, but I'm not sorry if I hurt _his_ feelings because he hurt mine first."

Tim looked up over TJ's head at Al, who was standing in the doorway holding Nicky. "Stay here, TJ. I mean it," Tim said as he got up and went into their bedroom, Al following closely behind him.

"I don't know what to do. I can't force him to write the note or to feel sorry," said Tim in hushed tones as he paced back and forth in their room.

Al bounced Nicky on her hip and tried to keep up with Tim. "I don't know, Timmy. I guess we have three choices: 1– make him sit there until he writes the note. 2 – give him a choice of either writing the note or losing tv time or 3 – let him off on a technicality."

Tim sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What do you think we should do?"

"Give him a choice, I guess."

Tim nodded and muttered to himself, then went back to the kitchen. Before he could say anything, the boy handed him an apology. Or, at least it was sort of an apology: _I am only a tiny bit sorry I hurt your feelings cos you hurt mine first. Timothy John Riggins._

"Can I be excused?" asked TJ.

"Yes. Brush your teeth, wash your face and then go to your room and put your pajamas on. One of us will be there to tuck you in soon," said Tim.

After TJ had left, Al came back into the kitchen. Tim handed her the note. She read it and let out a little chuckle. "Wow, he really is his mother's son."

"I guess so," said Tim, thinking about how TJ seemed to be a mixture of some of the most frustrating traits of both his parents. Tim had a bad feeling that these new rules were going to be as painful for him and Al as they were for TJ.


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

A week later, Tim suggested to Billy that he should stay after dinner and start helping with the bedtime routine. Jack and Amber were happy with this development but TJ sullenly refused to let Billy tuck him in. Each time TJ refused, Billy tried to hide his hurt and disappointment, but Tim could always see it. Tim and Al did what they could do try to get TJ to relent, but the boy had the Collette tendency to dig in his heels and refuse to give even half an inch.

Tim kept hoping that the more time passed, the more trusting TJ would be become, but after a few more weeks without improvement, Tim was forced to admit that he didn't know what else they could do.

It was mid-March and the kids had two days off from school for teacher training. Al was taking Amber to Austin for the dual purposes of visiting Tyra and getting the girl fitted for a bridesmaid's dress. Jean-Luc had proposed to Tyra when they were in France for Christmas. Since Jean-Luc had a ten-year old son from a previous relationship whom he wanted to be his best man, Tyra had been happy to ask Amber, who had been even more happy to accept. Her best friend Sarah had been the flower girl in a cousin's wedding, but this was _much_ more exciting and important.

Watching Al pack for her weekend away, Tim sat on the bed, his back leaning casually against the headboard. Nicky was sitting on the bed, right next to him and was doing a great job staying upright. He was even trying to grab Tim's leg to pull himself up, but hadn't quite mastered that move yet.

"Timmy, you need to talk to TJ. This can't go on much longer. Billy is trying so hard and doing everything right. TJ needs to cut him some slack and try to forgive him," said Al as she shoved a bunch of t-shirts into a duffle bag.

"I don't know what to say to him, but you seem to have loads of ideas. Maybe you should talk to him."

"He won't listen to me but I know he'll listen to you."

Tim laughed. "He's way too stubborn to listen to anyone."

Al finished packing, zipped up the bag, and dropped it on the floor. She came over and sat next to Tim, putting a hand on his chest.

"I'm serious, Timmy. He looks up to you and the worst thing in the world to him would be if you were disappointed in him. He'll do what you say."

Tim shook his head in disbelief.

"You forget that I've seen his comics. He thinks so highly of you. In the last comic, you saved Planet Puppy from a fiery comet."

"Planet Puppy?" asked Tim, a wide grin lighting up his face. "I'd love to live on Planet Puppy."

"You would not. It would smell _really_ bad," said Al, rolling her eyes.

Tim got up from the bed and put Nicky in his crib, where the baby lay on his back and kicked his legs, gurgling happily. Then Tim sat down next to Al and put his arms around her, moving in to kiss her neck.

"Timmy, you're not going to distract me," she said.

Tim's lips curved into a smile as he kissed his way up to the spot just below her ear. "You sure about that?" he asked in a throaty whisper, his hot breath causing her to shiver.

She leaned away and held him back with one small but muscular arm. "Not even by kissing my neck and whispering in my ear. Not this time, pal."

Tim sighed and tried to move away, but Al held him where he was. "Just talk to him, Timmy. Please?"

"OK," he sighed, finding it easier to give in than to fight her.

She kissed him deeply and then stood up, leaving him feeling a bit dizzy. It had been the kind of kiss that left him breathless and thinking about things that would make her blush when he said them out loud.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," she said, picking up a book and handing it to him. "Tami let me borrow this. Can you please ask Eric to give it to her when you see him on Saturday?"

"I was going to cancel golf this week, since you won't be here to watch the kids."

"What about Billy?" asked Al.

"Seriously? You'd trust Billy to do it?"

"Well, yeah, wouldn't you?" she asked, puzzled.

"I would, but I figured you probably still didn't trust him completely."

"The babies and Jack will be sleeping, so that will just leave TJ. It'll probably be good for both of them. And Billy should know that we'd even trust him with our own son."

Al picked up her duffle bag and went over to the crib to say goodbye to Nicky. Tim knew, even though it was just for a weekend, he was really going to miss her.

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On Friday night, Billy came over for dinner and then helped to put Jack and Cody to bed. TJ was icily polite but still refused to let Billy tuck him in. After Nicky was in bed, Tim joined Billy in the TV room and they watched a hockey game, keeping their talk minimal and game-related until the intermission.

"Billy, I got an idea," said Tim.

"Congratulations, Timmy. Want me to call CNN?" responded Billy with a grin.

Tim swatted his brother with a pillow. "Don't be a smart ass. I'm trying to help you out here."

"You're right, Timmy, you're right. Shoot. What's this big idea?"

"You're going fishing with TJ tomorrow."

Billy's eyes got big and the color drained from his cheeks. "Fishing? With TJ? Alone? Kid won't let me get within 10 feet of him, you really think he's going to get on a boat with me?"

"It'll be fine, Billy. I promise. I'll talk to him first," said Tim, the words sounding much more confident than he felt.

"I don't know...." Billy's voice trailed off as he considered the situation.

"Billy, just be here at 9am and bring some live bait – that rickety old store about a mile up the road has a good selection. Don't forget the bait and it'll all be good."

Billy took a deep breath and then shrugged. "Sure, why not? What've I got to lose, anyway? He can't hate me any more than he already does."

Tim frowned. "That's the spirit, Billy. An attitude like that is really going to get you places."

"Timmy, it's just been so hard. I never expected it to be a cakewalk, but c'mon, it's been almost two months and the kid won't even look me in the eye."

"Trust me," was all Tim had time to say before the second period of the hockey game diverted their attention.


	54. Chapter 54

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

"Hey TJ, you want to go fishing this morning?" asked Tim. The two of them were sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal. Jack was watching cartoons, Nicky was in the playpen and Cody was in the walker. Tim enjoyed watching the two babies try to interact with each other. Cody would get as close to Nicky as the walker would allow and Nicky would reach for his cousin.

"Yeah," said TJ, his eyes lighting up.

"Great. There's just one small catch," said Tim. "I can't go because I have to watch the babies. Your dad is going to take you."

TJ folded his arms and flopped back in his chair. "No way. I'm not going anywhere with him."

Tim pushed his hair back and sighed. "TJ, you've made your point. Your dad knows how hurt and mad you are. He gets it."

"Good," said TJ, lower lip edging into a pout.

"It's time to move on."

"Don't wanna."

"Well," said Tim, drawing out the word. "You kinda hafta."

"Or else what?" asked TJ, his eyes defiant.

"Or else you're going to be one very miserable little kid."

TJ kicked his feet petulantly. "But I didn't do anything wrong."

"You didn't. But your dad....he's seriously sorry and he's apologized to you so many times and tried to make it up to you. It's time for you to forgive him. It's time to give him a second chance."

"And that what happens when he screws that up?"

"I really don't think he's going to screw it up this time," said Tim, his words quiet and earnest.

TJ was quiet for several beats, then he spoke in a soft voice. "But I'm still really mad."

"I know you are, but you have to let it go."

"I don't know how to let it go," said TJ.

Tim thought about it for a minute and then had an idea. "OK, take a deep breath and puff out your cheeks like this." Tim demonstrated and waited for TJ to mimic him.

"OK, now let the air out slowly and pretend like instead of air you're letting out, you're actually letting out some of the mad, some of that anger, like letting air out of a balloon."

TJ's face was the picture of concentration as he followed Tim's instructions.

"How did that feel? Any better?" asked Tim.

One corner of TJ's lips quirked up. "Maybe a teeny bit."

"Good. Just do that whenever you start to feel mad. You want to bring the fishing rods and the tackle box down to the dock?"

TJ nodded and headed for the door. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Tim met Billy outside, where he was leaning against the railing of the wheelchair ramp, holding two small white containers and watching TJ lug the fishing rods to the dock.

"I got nightcrawlers and crickets."

Tim nodded. "Look, I think he'll listen to you now, but seriously, Billy, this is your last chance. If you mess up after this, then you've lost him. For good."

Billy looked down, eyes blinking and mouth pressed into a thin line. "I swear to God, I won't mess it up this time."

Tim clapped Billy on the back and gave him a gentle shove toward the dock. "I'm not the one you have to convince."

Billy mumbled goodbye and headed off toward to the dock with the slow, apprehensive steps of a man headed for the gallows.

"And make sure he wears his life jacket," Tim called out.

Billy turned and gave Tim a small grin. "Never thought I'd see the day when you go all mother hen."

"I just don't want anything to happen to him," said Tim, his eyes serious enough to convey that when he said anything, he meant _anything_.

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A few hours later, the front door banged open and TJ came running in, carrying a string of four fish.

"Uncle Timmy, we caught dinner," he said proudly.

Tim was afraid he was going to wake the babies, but decided that would be a small price to pay for seeing TJ happy and excited for the first time in months.

"Good thing Al's not here – she hates fish," said Tim. "Go get the cooler and then we'll fill it up with ice, put the fish in there and leave it outside for now."

"But can't we just put them in the fridge?"

Tim shook his head. "Your aunt's got a nose like a bloodhound. If even a single fish scale hits her kitchen, she's going to have a fit."

TJ nodded furiously and went running to the garage to get the cooler, nearly bowling Billy over on his way there.

"Sorry, Dad," he said, laughing as he raced around him.

"So, it went okay?" asked Tim as Billy sat down on the couch.

"Yeah, Timmy, it went great. I wasn't sure at first but he warmed up to me as the time went on."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Tim.

"There's just one thing that was weird, though," said Billy, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "In the beginning especially, he kept breathing funny, like with his cheeks puffed out. I kept expecting him to start hyperventilating or something."

Tim grinned. "Don't worry about it, Billy. He's fine. Completely fine."

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Al and Amber returned mid-morning on Sunday to find TJ, Billy and Jack playing video games. Tim was on the floor with both babies, rolling a beach ball between them, much to their amusement. Amber launched herself at Billy, interrupting the game and nearly knocking him off the couch.

"I leave you boys alone for three days and you go and get a video game system? Timmy, I thought we'd talked about this," said Al.

Billy stood up. "Oh, no, it's ours – I brought it from home so I could play with the boys. I'll take it back with me tonight. Don't worry."

"Thank you," said Al.

Tim stood up with Nicky and handed him to Al, who hugged him close and inhaled his baby smell with her eyes closed. The baby smiled and then grabbed a handful of Al's hair and shrieked in delight.

"Didn't expect you home so soon," said Tim, kissing the top of her head while he gently removed Nicky's hand from her hair. "We missed you."

"I missed you too," said Al with a smile. She looked down at TJ, who was tugging on her arm. "Yes, TJ?"

"Guess what! Daddy took me fishing with real bait – worms and crickets – and we caught four fish **and** we ate them for dinner," said TJ.

"That's great, TJ. Disgusting, but great."

"One of the fish ate the hook and we found it when we cut him open." TJ had been particularly excited about that development.

Al turned slightly green and swallowed hard. "Fantastic. I can just imagine what that smelled like. Timmy, please tell me-"

"Don't worry, Al, no fish touched a single surface in this house. All the gutting, grilling and eating took place outside."

"Thank god," said Al, visibly relieved.

Tim hugged her and then looked at her closely. "You look like you could use a walk."

"You have no idea," sighed Al.

"I have a pretty good idea – your eye keeps twitching," said Tim with a grin.

Al gave Tim a gentle shove and then left the room to get the baby sling so she wouldn't have to put Nicky down. Tim offered to get the stroller, but Al really wanted to carry him, saying she was making up for lost time over the weekend.

Outside, they walked along the edge of the lake, headed toward Jay's house. Tim slipped his arm around Al's shoulder and she tucked her hand in his back pocket.

"Was it that bad?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, no. Just the trip home. Four hours of listening to Amber plan, in excruciating detail, her wedding to Noah Street."

Tim laughed and Al elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oh sure, it sounds funny now. Not so funny when you're the one trapped, listening to it."

"So, what's Tyra's fiance like?"

Al paused and considered the question. "He's really French. Like imagine the French-est TV or movie character you've ever seen, multiply by 100 and you've got Jean-Luc."

Tim struggled, but he could only come up with one French character. "He's like Pepe LePew?"

"No, not quite like that," laughed Al. "Although he does kiss and touch Tyra a lot. He's very thin and serious, wears black turtle neck sweaters and smokes unfiltered cigarettes. I just don't see him being able to stick around in Texas for very long. Oh and he's a lot older than Tyra."

"What, like 6 or 7 years kind of like our age difference?"

"No more like 15. At least."

"So you don't like him?" asked Tim.

"No, I like him, I guess. It's just that I'm dreading the day we lose Tyra to France."

"You seriously think that will happen?"

"Absolutely. It's only a matter of time. And given the way Jean-Luc rolls his eyes every time he has to talk about living in Texas, I'd say it's going to be a lot sooner than you'd think."

It made sense to Tim. Tyra had always wanted so much more than Dillon in particular and Texas in general had to offer.

They walked past Jay's boat dock and followed the curve of the lake through some trees and then out to a grassy field that sloped up from the lake. Tim veered toward the hilltop, steering Al with a gentle pressure on her back. When they got to the top, Al was surprised to see a bench.

"I've been taking the kids for walks. we stop up here and have a snack or play for a little while before we go back home," explained Tim.

Tim sat down first, his arm stretched out across the bench so Al could cuddle up next to him. Nicky was dozing in the baby sling and Tim put a hand on the baby's back.

"So, I've been thinking about something...." began Tim.

"Timmy, I don't have the energy to argue with you right now about a puppy, so it better not be that."

Tim smiled and shook his head. "Nah. It's about Billy. We were talking yesterday. He wants to give TJ a couple of weeks and then, if everything's still good, Billy'd like to take the kids for a weekend visit."

Al nodded. "At the cabin?"

"No – he'd take them back to their house. He and I are going to start clearing it out and giving away some of Mindy's stuff so it's a little less painful for Billy to be there. He's been insisting that he has to go back there to prove to himself that he can handle it."

"Yeah, I agree," said Al. "You can't hide forever and he's so much stronger than he was a few months ago."

"Thing is....I don't think it's a good plan for him in the long run, to stay in that house. It's haunted by so many bad memories. I never really understood his attachment to the place."

Al shrugged and rubbed Tim's jaw. "It's his home, Timmy."

"Well, I'd like to help him find a new home. If it's okay with you, I'd like to give him this hill plus a couple of acres to build a house."

Al smiled and shook her head with a sense of wonderment.

"What?"

"You're just so cute.....creating your own village."

"Besides Nicky and you, Jay and Billy are the only family I have. I like having them close."

"I know you do," said Al quietly. "Timmy, I would love to have Billy as a neighbor."

Tim smiled down at his wife, his mind reeling through all the things he and Billy would have to do to get ready for the new house. It was going to be a fantastic project. Tim could just tell.


	55. Chapter 55

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

When Tim told Billy the he and Al were giving him the land to build a house, he watched emotions flip through his brother's eyes like the fruit symbols in a slot machine. In the end, brotherly love and gratefulness won out as Billy happily, graciously accepted the offer and the two brothers started planning the new house.

The builder Jason and Tim had both used was available to start right away and had a set of plans for a six-bedroom, two-story house that would ensure a bedroom for each kid. If all went well, Billy could move into his new home by mid-June. When Tim had awkwardly approached the matter of financing, assuming that Billy would have to sell his house first, his brother waved him off, mumbling something about life insurance money.

Over the next few weeks, Tim helped Billy clear out his house to get it ready to sell and make it easier for Billy to spend time there. In addition to Mindy's things, the brothers uncovered artefacts from a past life: papers and letters from their parents as well as shoeboxes of keepsakes that neither had realized their mother had bothered to save. Tim was surprised to find he could finally think of his parents and feel just a sense of detachment, like he was looking at a black and white picture from someone else's life.

Back in his own life, things were going smoothly. He was still loving looking after the kids. Cody had his first birthday and was still threatening to walk without entirely being able to follow through on the threat. Nicky seemed like he could zoom past his slightly older cousin on the way to that milestone, since the baby had gotten quite adept at pulling himself up and his legs just seemed stronger than Cody's.

TJ and Billy's relationship had been repaired nicely. The boy still had moments when he slipped and seemed on the verge of losing his trust, but he was able to pull himself back. Al privately told Tim that he was the reason TJ had forgiven Billy but Tim had just blushed and shrugged, insisting it was the live bait that had won the boy over.

Billy was doing most of the parenting now – taking the older kids to school, coming over for dinner nearly every night, helping with homework, putting the kids to bed. Tim and Al agreed it was time for the weekend visit. Billy picked the kids up after work on Friday and planned take the older ones to school on Monday and then drop the younger ones off at Tim's house.

When Al got home from work Friday night, the house was strangely, eerily empty. The day had been rainy and shortly after sunset, powerful storms moved through in angry waves. When the electricity went out, they lit candles and enjoyed the fact that they could have open flames in the house without worrying about Hurricane Jack burning the place down. She and Tim had dinner and then played with Nicky until the boy could barely keep his eyes open.

Tim scooped Nicky off the floor, kissed his forehead and handed him over to Al. "You want to put him to bed and I'll get a fire going?"

It was chilly enough for a fire and they hadn't had a chance to have one since before Nicky was born. Al nodded and headed back to their room while Tim went into the garage to get logs, matches, and kindling.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, he set the raw materials up methodically, making sure they would result in a good, strong fire that would catch quickly and burn steadily. He struck a match and lit the kindling, waving air toward the flames to help fuel them. Soon, the wood caught fire. Tim put the gate back in place and then scooted back from the fireplace to sit with his back against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him.

He was watching the flames dance and thinking about Billy and the kids when Al returned from their room. She laid down on the couch so she could rest her head on Tim's shoulder and watch the fire with him. After a few minutes, she kissed his neck, then pulled his shirt aside so she could kiss his shoulder.

"Damn but you're tense tonight, Timmy. What's wrong?" she asked, her husky voice low, her warm breath tickling his ear.

He shrugged. "Guess I'm just wondering how Billy and the kids are doing. Amber's afraid of thunderstorms and TJ's tooth is going to come out any time now. I was kinda looking foward to being the tooth fairy.

Al rubbed his shoulders. "It's OK, Timmy. This needs to happen. They need Billy and he needs them. They're a family."

"Yeah, I know. It's just.....I can't help feeling like something horrible could happen. Like Billy could kidnap the kids, take them to South America and we'd never see them again."

"Timmy," said Al, half-joking and half-scolding, "have you been watching those Lifetime made-for-TV movies again?"

Tim looked down, a sheepish grin playing across his lips. "Maybe.

He twisted his torso so he could look at Al. He brushed back her hair and let his hand rest on her neck.

"Timmy, I've warned you about those."

"I know, I know. But they're so damn compelling."

Al grinned. "Insidious is more like it. Billy is not going to kidnap his kids. He needs you too, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"C'mon, Timmy. No brooding allowed. Not on a Friday night when we have a whole, empty, nearly kid-free house for the first time in months."

"I don't know..."

"Don't worry, I can distract you," said Al, giving him a wicked grin before she kissed him.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

Later, they lay on the couch in a sweaty, exhausted tangle. Tim reached up to grab the decorative quilt from the top of the couch and drape it over them before Al could catch a chill. She lifted her head from his chest and gazed at him, still breathless and slightly dazed

"You okay?" he asked, his voice a deep, soft rumble.

"Very."

"Okay, you just seem a little dazed or something."

She smiled. "I'm fine, Timmy. More than fine, in fact....It's just....it's been a while since you've been that....aggressive."

Tim started to apologize but she put her hand over his mouth.

"It was an observation, not a complaint. Believe me, I got nothing to complain about. I missed that part of you."

"I just don't want to hurt you," he said, running his hands though her hair.

Al groaned and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. He felt a kiss followed by a sharp nip that didn't hurt exactly but still made him jump. "Ow, you bit me. What'd you do that for?"

"To prove a point. I'm not some delicate little thing that you gotta worry about all the time. I'm very tough. Practically unbreakable."

Tim smiled and squeezed her hand. They drifted into silence for several minutes, then Al tried to sit up but Tim stopped her.

"We're relaxing here. What's your big rush?"

"Just thinking we should go to sleep soon. We've got a big day tomorrow."

"Do we? That's news to me," he said, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, I only got the call this afternoon. We've got to go to Midland to visit with a nice lady from West Texas Big Dogs Rescue. I'm thinking we could go early and get back before your tee time."

"Why are we meeting this lady?"

"To get our new dog, I hope."

Tim looked at Al in disbelief. "But I thought you said 'no puppies'. In fact, I'm sure you said 'no puppies'. Repeatedly. All the time."

"Yes, no puppies. But I never said anything about fully-grown adult dogs. This is where I got Bruno and after he died, I called them to let them know. The woman asked at the time if we'd want another dog and I'd said yes, just not right away."

"And now you've found a dog you want?"

"Well, more like the dog's found us. They got this dog in recently and the woman thought he'd be perfect for us. His owner was an elderly woman, a grandmother who watched her grandkids, so we know the dog gets along well with kids. The woman died and none of her children could take him, so he ended up at the rescue."

"Is he a Great Dane?"

"Yep. Four years old – Harlequin."

"I don't like that name," said Tim.

Al smiled. "It's not his name – it' what they call his coloration pattern. White with black splotches. His name is Angelo."

"Angelo," repeated Tim, smiling. "I can live with Angelo."

"Don't get any ideas, Timmy. He's going to be my dog and go to work with me. I miss having Bruno at work, especially when I have to open up early by myself."

"Yeah, who knows who you might find sleeping in there," said Tim with a smile, reminding her of how they met.

Al returned his smile and kissed his collarbone. "Well, that turned out pretty good. Maybe they could make a Lifetime movie out of it."

"Not a chance," said Tim, shaking his head and grinning, "Not enough danger."


	56. Chapter 56

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews and for sticking with the story for so long. The end is very definitely in sight - just one more chapter after this. :)  
**

The next day, Al, Tim, Nicky and George all headed out to Midland to meet Angelo. He was a massive dog, taller and heavier than George. He had a black spot over his eye and then irregular black patches over his white body that looked a bit like a Holstein cow. When they met him, he was curious and sniffed each of them in turn, then sat down next to Al, leaned against her and looked up at her. Tim watched this and grinned, knowing his wife had fallen in love with the dog.

After a brief interview with the rescue volunteer, they were soon loading the dog into the way-back of the Passat and heading home. Al sat in the back seat, allegedly to watch over Nicky, since he was in close proximity to a strange, new dog. But in reality, Tim could see that she was just using it as an excuse so she to be close to her new dog.

Angelo fit into their household very well. George liked him, but also seemed to like that he went away during the day. The kids loved him and he loved them, showing endless patience, especially with Jack.

The weeks flew by as the school year ended and the babies seemed to change each day. Cody finally started walking in June and Nicky was just two weeks behind him. Al was amazed it happened so quickly, but Tim figured that Nicky just didn't want to get left behind.

Nicky was a funny kid, happy and laughing nearly all the time although he could scream when he needed to. His eyes had darkened slightly but remained two distinctly different colors. His hair had gotten straight and from white blonde to a yellow blonde.

Billy's house was finished at the end of June. He and the kids moved in right away. With school out, Tim watched all of the kids, including Noah, during the day and he loved it. He tried to make sure they were busy and doing activities instead of just sitting in front of the television.

Al was doing well at work and was pushing Billy to consider expanding into offering an auto body shop. The building across the street from the garage was for rent and she thought it would be perfect. Billy was dragging his feet because they already had more business than they knew what to do with and he needed to hire more staff. In fact, Al had been working 12-hour days and even going in on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

She was exhausted most of the time and Tim wished Billy would just hurry up and hire someone already. He hated seeing her so run down and wasn't at all surprised when she came down with a stomach bug that kept her out of work for two days. He tried to get her to stay home for a few more days to fully recover, but she wouldn't hear of it.

Over the Fourth of July weekend, they had a party to celebrate the holiday, Billy's housewarming and Tim and Al's anniversary. Coach and Tami were there along with Julie and her boyfriend, a singer/songwriter from Austin named Ethan. Tyra was also down from Austin along with Jean-Luc and his son Remy. And of course, Billy and his kids and Jay, Lyla and Noah were also there.

The party was near the dock at Jay's house, where they could take advantage of the shade, the picnic tables, and the big grassy field. After lunch, while the babies napped in travel cribs, Noah and TJ's constant begging for a football game finally wore down the adults.

Tim and Jay looked at Coach Taylor, expecting him to get things organized. He sighed and adjusted his ball cap, his jaw clenching the whole time.

"Don't stand around lookin' at me like that. All y'all who are playin', go stand over there," he finally said.

TJ, Noah and Gracie Belle all scrambled over to where he was pointing. Tim, Billy, Jay, and Al strolled over more casually. After conferring with Tyra, Jean-Luc and Remy also joined in.

"Ethan? What about you?" asked Coach, looking pointedly at Julie's boyfriend who was sitting on a lawn chair with Julie on his lap.

"Ah, no thanks, Eric. I don't play sports. They make me chafe."

"Chafe?" Coach asked incredulously and then waved his hand like he didn't really want to know.

"So, how we going to divide the teams?" asked TJ.

"I'm thinking Coach and Six have got to be the captains," said Tim.

"Is that okay with everyone else?" asked Coach Taylor, looking around at all the nodding heads. "OK, then, Jason, let's save ourselves thousands of dollars of future therapy bills and stipulate that we each are going to pick our own kids first."

Jay grinned and nodded as Gracie Belle skipped over to stand behind her father and Noah came over to stand next to him, whispering instructions about who to pick next.

"OK, Streeter, name your team and we'll negotiate," said Coach.

Jay looked around. "I'll take Al, TJ, and Remy."

"You sure? That gives you an awfully short team. I tell you what, I'll trade you Billy for TJ."

"You think Billy's going to bring up the height average?" joked Jason. "I'll stick with my original team."

"OK, then, let's play some football. Tag football, kids, just tag here."

Tyra flipped a coin and Coach's team won the toss, electing to receive. Al's kick-off was perfect and Billy managed to catch it, fumble and then recover before TJ tagged him.

In the huddle, Coach was distracted by Julie and her boyfriend.

"I tell you what, that guy doesn't get his hands off my daughter, he's gonna be picking up his teeth with broken fingers."

Billy chuckled and Coach cut him off with a sharp look. "Sure, Billy, laugh it up now. You wait about 5 or 6 years until your pretty little girl's a teenager. Then we'll see who's laughing."

"C'mon, Dad. Can we just play?" whined Gracie Belle, bringing Eric back to reality. He called a play and they broke out of the huddle. But he was still too distracted and Remy easily intercepted his off-target pass, running it in for a touchdown.

When Coach's team got the ball back, he was all business, executing a couple of running plays with Tim before setting up a perfect long pass into the end zone.

Although Tim hadn't played much defense, he knew Six like a book and was able to anticipate his plays, shutting down Street's offensive. Soon, it was fourth and long and Al was lining up to punt the ball. Instead, she tossed it over to Noah who ran up the sideline. Just as he was about to get tagged, he lateralled to Remy, who scored, mostly because Al was able to run up the field and block Tim.

On the next play, Tim lined up across from Al and noticed that she didn't look quite right. He stood up quickly, hands forming a T over his head as he shouted "Time out," then dragged Al over to the side.

"You okay, Al? You don't look so good."

She waved away his concern. "I'm fine. You're just worried because you're getting your asses kicked by a bunch of midgets and a guy in a wheelchair."

He tried to reason with her, but she was insistent that she was fine. Eventually, he had to relent and they returned to the game. Coach Taylor called for the snap and Tim burst off the line, stepping out of Al's way. She grabbed his arm and dug in her heels, but Tim easily dragged her up the field. He felt a release of pressure on his arm, took another few steps and then turned to look for the pass he was sure was coming.

He didn't see the ball, though. All he could see was Al, crumpled on the ground and not moving at all. He ran over to his side and dropped to his knees, then realized he was afraid to touch her because he had no idea what to do.

"Lyla! We need some help over here," he shouted, his voice ragged. Lyla was soon by his side, checking Al's breathing and taking her pulse.

"I'm fine," said Al, opening her eyes and struggling to sit up.

"You passed out or something," said Tim.

"Oh. I must just be dehydrated. I'll drink some Gatorade and then I'll be fine. Really. No problem."

"Al, your pulse was kind of weak and fast and your breathing's a bit shallow," said Lyla.

Al rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was playing football, I think that's fairly normal."

Lyla looked at Tim, her big eyes begging him for a little help, but he didn't know what point Lyla was trying to make.

"With the heat, and if you are dehydrated, you should probably be worried about heat exhaustion and heat stroke," said Lyla.

Tim put his hand on Al's forehead. "You do feel like you might have a fever."

"Tim, I'm fine," she struggled into a sitting position, ignoring all help. Lyla sighed and walked away while Tim tried to think about how to convince her to get herself checked out at the hospital.

"I'm going to go get you some water. Back in a second," he said, kissing her forehead before standing up. He headed over to the coolers, which were near the picnic tables where everyone was waiting, Tami having insisted that everyone clear out and give Al some room.

"Mrs. Taylor, I was hoping you might be able to talk to Al. She's so damn stubborn," said Tim, knowing both that Tami would help and was probably the only person Al might listen to. Tami nodded solemnly, accepting the responsibility, and walked over to Al.

Tim watched as Mrs. Taylor crouched next to his wife and had an animated discussion with her. After about ten minutes, Tami looked up and motioned for Tim to come over.

"Okay, Timmy, you win. I'll go to the hospital. But, when they say there's nothing wrong with me except a little dehydration, you're going to owe me something. Something big. I haven't decided yet."

"I can live with that deal," said Tim, helping Al up. She wobbled a little and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the truck, ignoring her protestations.

The emergency room was surprisingly quiet once again and the triage nurse whisked Al back, firmly insisting that Tim take a seat in the waiting room. Reluctantly, he headed out and sat down in an uncomfortable chair, thinking that he'd been to the hospital way too many times in the last year.

Tim had no idea how long he'd been waiting when the nurse came out and asked him to follow her. The walk down the hallway seemed to take half a lifetime, but soon he was standing next to Al's bed. She looked pale and was attached to an IV.

"Have a seat," she said with a strange smile.

Tim sat down on the edge of the chair and reached across to hold her hand.

"Um, Timmy, I'm not sure how to tell you this," she began.

"Is it something bad?" he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and wishing she'd just spill whatever it was without any preamble.

"No, just....um, unexpected....Timmy, I'm pregnant. The doctor just told me."

Disbelief and excitement battled in the pit of his stomach while his mouth hung open comically.

"But how?" he asked, when his voice was finally working again.

Al sighed. "Remember that night – our first nearly-kid-free house – when there was that thunderstorm and you built a fire?"

"I remember," he said, smiling at the memory and the sight of Al's blushing cheeks. "Shit....I didn't even think..."

"Neither did I, at the time," she said.

"I know I don't know a lot about this kinda thing, but I thought breastfeeding was nature's birth control."

"Yeah, well, it's not all the effective, apparently."

"How far along are you?"

"No idea – they're getting the ultrasound machine in here and should have a better idea then. Could be as much as 12 or 16 weeks.....Damn, and I thought I was just getting fat from working too much and not exercising."

"I hadn't noticed."

Al smiled. "That's very sweet, and wise, of you to say."

Tim kissed her hand. "And it's seriously true."

Tim felt like he was trying to catch up with reality and Al seemed shell-shocked. The tech came in with the ultrasound machine and set it up. Soon, a hazy image was flickering on the monitor. Tim looked at it with idle curiosity, since he knew his ability to identify the baby on the screen was woeful. He knew enough to look for the heartbeat, a steady pulsing beacon in a murky sea. There it was, he thought, then frowned. Or was that it there? This had been a lot easier the last time.

"Excuse me, ma'am," asked Tim, hoping he wasn't going to sound like an ass by asking a totally stupid question. "Why does it look like there's two heartbeats?"

"Because there are," said the technician with a giant smile. "Congratulations. You're going to have twins."

Tim was unable to hide his excitement. As far as he was concerned, the only thing better than one baby was two. His excitement vanished, replaced by cold dread, when he remembered the bleeding after Nicky was born.

"Al, are you going to be able to do this? I mean, giving birth the last time nearly killed you," said Tim.

Her eyes filled with tears and Tim held his breath, unsure if they were due to fear, happiness, or sadness.

"Well, you know, they'll probably have to come out the sunroof."

"The sunroof?" asked Tim, puzzled and concerned that Al was becoming delirious or starting to hallucinate.

"Yeah, you know, a c-section," she said with grin.

"Are you happy?"

"Yeah. A little terrified, but pretty damn happy, maybe even ecstatic," said Al.

Tim kissed her. "Me too. Hell, we've been taking care of five kids the last several months. Two plus Nicky will be nothing. No sweat."

"Well, it probably won't be _that_ easy, but I know we can handle anything together."

"We make a good team," he said as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. His knees felt weak and his heart was racing, but he couldn't think of any news he'd rather hear or anything he'd rather do than take care of his wife and his children.


	57. Chapter 57

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

**Author's Note: I really thought this was the last chapter, the epilogue, but it turns out I was wrong. There's one more chapter after this. (And that's it. I swear. :))**

_Late September_

Tim finished strapping Nicky into his car seat, deftly dodging the boy's grabbing hands.

"You might be a whole year old now, Little Man, but I'm still faster. Probably not smarter, but definitely faster," said Tim, smiling as the baby babbled back at him, the only recognizable word 'Da-da.'

"C'mon, Al, game's gonna start," hollered Tim before he got into the driver's seat and started up the car. He drummed his fingers on the wheel impatiently for several minutes before Al finally left the house.

Grumbling, she got into the car and struggled with the seat belt. Tim leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You look good."

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. "I feel enormous. I'm not sure I'm going to last another three months. You might have to widen the doorways and start carting me around in a livestock truck."

"I will not. You might feel enormous but you look fine. More than fine, in fact," Tim whispered and then kissed her lips, lingering for longer than he knew he should when they were already running late.

In the backseat, Nicky squealed, a reminder that they really had to get moving. Tim broke off the kiss, put the car in gear and drove up the road.

"You put TJ's present in the trunk?" asked Al.

"Yep. And Nicky's diaper bag. And your spare outfit. And everything else you asked me to put in there."

"I didn't ask you to put anything else in there," said Al.

"I know," Tim grinned, "Just covering my bases."

Al jumped suddenly and Tim looked over at her. She took his hand and pressed it into her belly.

"Damn. They're really moving around in there," he said.

"Tell me about it. I barely slept last night. I think Baby A wants to play the drums and Baby B wants to be a placekicker."

"You know, Al, now that we know they're both girls, I think we should pick out the names so we can quit this Baby A/Baby B stuff."

"Alright. You still like Maeve Collette?" she asked, waiting for his nod of assent. "One down, one to go. I asked Billy-"

"Wait a minute, you already discussed our babies' names with my brother?" complained Tim.

"Yes and in a second you're going to feel dumb for protesting. I asked him how he would feel about us naming a baby Melinda, you know, after Mindy. He said he was touched and would be happy to see Mindy remembered that way – that we could even call her Mindy for short, that would be fine with him."

Tim kept his eyes on the road but lowered his chin so his hair hid his face. "OK, you're right, I feel dumb."

Al reached over and rubbed his leg. "Don't feel dumb. You like the name Melinda?"

"Love it," he said. "Have you picked out a middle name?"

Al shook her head. Tim was quiet for a minute as he negotiated a series of turns that brought him into the parking lot of Barton's park and football field. He parked the car and then half-turned to face Al.

"I was thinking Avery....Melinda Avery," he said quietly.

Al nodded and squeezed his hand, choked up at the memory of her first daughter. "That's a lovely way to remember her – thank you."

Tim kissed her hand and ran a finger along her jaw. "You want to be the one to tell Amber? She's going to be thrilled."

"Sure."

"OK, let's bring Maeve and Mindy to their first football game, then," said Tim as he got out of the car and opened the back door to get Nicky.

Al laughed. "You know, I don't think it really counts until they're actually born."

Tim gathered Nicky up and held him on his hip, then placed his other hand lightly on Al's back. When they got to the bleachers, they found Billy sitting on the end, three rows up from the bottom with Amber and Jack sitting in the row in front of him. The double stroller was parked next to him, Cody dozing in the second seat. Coach Taylor, Tami, and Lyla in the row with him.

"At least we haven't missed the kick-off," said Tim, relieved.

"What are you talkin' about, Riggins? This is half-time," barked Coach, giving Tim flashbacks of every time he'd ever gotten yelled at in practice.

"You're kidding, right?" asked Tim, annoyed with himself for getting the time wrong.

"Of course I'm kidding," replied Coach, breaking into a wide grin as he stood to greet Al.

Tim laughed and put Nicky in the front seat of the stroller. He put a handful of Cheerios in the little tray and then helped Al up into the bleachers, settling down in front of Coach and Tami. Amber sidled over to Al.

"Al, can I feel the babies? Please?"

Al guided the girl's hand to a spot on her belly. "Amby, Uncle Timmy and I have some good news for you. You're finally going to get your wish – two girl cousins. And the doctor is pretty certain they're identical twins."

Tim covered his ears as Amber squealed loud enough that parents across the field stared at them. After a flurry of congratulations, things quieted down and it looked like the game would start soon.

Tim looked back at Lyla and nodded at the video camera in her lap. "Six off scouting, huh?"

"Yeah. It kills him to miss these games. Noah's very understanding and enjoys watching the film with him, but it's not the same as having his dad here."

Coach leaned around Tami to talk directly to Lyla. "I have it on good authority that there's going to be an offensive co-ordinator position open with the Panthers next year. Mac's finally going to retire. You just put that little seed in Jason's ear, we'll see if it grows."

Lyla blushed and nodded. "Thanks, Coach. I'll tell him. He loves his job, that's the problem."

"But he loves his family more. Won't even be a contest once he has another option."

The referee walked onto the field and blew the whistle, indicating that the game's start was imminent.

"Your girl starting today, Coach?" asked Billy.

"Yes, she sure is. Wide receiver," Coach answered, beaming with pride.

Tim settled back to watch the game. Pee-wee had changed a little since he and Six had torn up the local field. Now, five neighboring towns pooled their resources to create one big league with different levels, which were based on the size of the kids. Although different ages, Noah, TJ and Gracie Belle were all at the same level, since TJ was big for his age, Noah was small and Gracie Belle was on the tall side but very skinny. As an added bonus, the three kids had ended up on the same team, the Lions.

The giant league had many benefits, the best of which was the kids got to play on teams with kids from other towns. Tim knew how stuck you could feel when you saw the same people, every day, all the time, for your whole life. He thought this mixing up the teams was a great idea. TJ also loved it, since it meant that Joey McCoy was on the Sharks, the very team the Lions were playing.

The Lions won the coin toss and opted to receive, so Tim was able to sit back and enjoy the game more than he did when TJ was on the field. He loved watching the kid play, but he couldn't help feeling nervous every time TJ went in for a tackle. He wondered if he'd ever get over that. He told himself that he had a few years to try to calm down before it would be Nicky's time to play.

Noah Street calmly led the Lions up the field with minimal mistakes, capping off an excellent drive with a short touchdown pass to Gracie Belle. The Sharks got the ball back and TJ trotted onto the field, looking up into the bleachers to find his family and give them a small wave before he became all business. Tim loved watching the way TJ concentrated and the intensity he had, the way he lined up every time like it was fourth-and-goal.

A few plays into the Sharks' possession, TJ managed to break through the offensive line, sack Joey McCoy and strip the ball from him. Tim cheered loudly as one of TJ's teammates landed on the fumble. Looking across the field, he was able to pick out JD, who was red-faced and screaming on the opposite sideline.

"Wow," said Coach appreciatively. "I can only hope I'm still coaching in another six or seven years. That's the kind of kid you could build a whole defense around. Like Junior Silverio."

"Honey, you're not going to be coaching in six or seven years. We're going to be retired. On a beach. In Tahiti. Where they've never even heard of football," said Tami, wrapping her arms around Coach.

The game was a massive blow-out in the Lions' favor. Tim soon lost track of the score, although he knew that Gracie Belle scored another touchdown. He was able to keep track of TJ's sacks, which, at the start of the fourth quarter, amounted to six.

The Sharks had the ball and Tim could see the gap in their line before the ball had even been snapped. Fierce and competitive, TJ saw it too and burst through it as soon as he was came off the line. Joey McCoy was flat on his back before he even knew what hit him.

TJ was walking back over to his teammates when Joey came up behind him and punched him in the kidney, then shoved him hard, knocking him over. TJ popped back up and Tim could see his hands clenched into tight little fists, but he didn't turn around. He just shook his head and kept walking as the referee ran over and tossed Joey out of the game.

When the game was over, TJ ambled over, his helmet swinging casually from his hand. Billy gave him a big hug and whispered something to him that made him laugh. Tim smiled, watching them, thinking how far they'd come in the last year. Then it was the moment Tim had been dreading all day – time to head out to Midland to go to Chuck E. Cheese for TJ's birthday party. He planned to stay as far away from the creepy animatronic mouse as possible.

*** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** **** *** ****

_October, the Sunday after Texas Tech's Homecoming Game_

Tim wound his way through the controlled chaos that was Texas Tech's Day-After Party, a special gathering for the coaching staff, team members, and their families. Although they were not technically his family, Jay had managed to use his powers of persuasion to wrangle invites for Tim, Al, Nicky, Billy and his kids.

Tim had just left Noah, TJ and Jack off at the kids' football area. Tim was concerned that Jack was too young for it, but the boy had insisted that he was fine and Billy had okayed it.

The party was on the Raiders' practice field, so it was spread out, but certain areas were still crowded. Tim fought his way through one of these areas, heading for the chairs where he'd left Al and Nicky. He managed to get through the crowd and then walked faster, craning his neck and looking for Al, when he nearly knocked over a small, mousy woman.

"I'm so sorrry, ma'am. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," said Tim, automatically grabbing the woman's elbows to steady her. "I sure hope I haven't hurt you."

The woman looked up, her face familiar but not quite identifiable, like the hint of a melody heard drifting out of someone else's car when you're stuck at a traffic light.

"Tim?" she asked, drawing the name out into three syllables. "Tim Riggins?"

It was the southern twang, so different from his Texas drawl, that finally loosened the right name from his memory bank.

"Jackie," he said warmly, a grin spreading across his face. He greeted her like an old friend, with half a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

She looked confused, even though she'd figured out who he was. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, my best friend, Jason Street, he's a recruiter for Tech, so he invited us along as his family. What about you? You don't work for Tech, do you?"

"Me? No. You see me coaching football? Absolutely not," babbled Jackie. Tim smiled, thinking that she still talked too much when she was nervous.

"So?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, prompting her to answer his question.

"Oh – Bo. I'm hear because of Bo."

"Bo plays for Tech?" asked Tim, flipping through the players on the team, but he couldn't remember one named Bo.

"Yeah. He just went off to get me a soda. He will be _so_ happy to see you."

Having exhausted players' first names, Tim started through his mental list of last names, suddenly hitting the jackpot. "Wait a minute. Bones Miller....Bones is Bo?"

Jackie beamed with pride. "He sure is."

"No way. That's fantastic. My nephew and his best friend are going to lose their minds when they hear Bones Miller used to be my next-door neighbor."

"I'm sure he'd love to meet them and tell them himself," said Jackie, looking up past Tim to smile at Bo. Tim turned around and looked up, still unable to believe that the once tiny boy was now a 6'5" man with the potential to play pro-football.

"Tim Riggins. I can't believe it," said Bo, shaking Tim's hand firmly and whacking him on the back.

"Likewise, Bo Miller. You're all grown-up."

"Well, I've grown tall. Never really filled out though," replied Bo with a laugh.

Tim and Bo talked football for a few minutes. When Tim mentioned TJ and Noah, Bo's face lit up. "I'd love to meet them. They here with you?"

"I left them off at the football camp thing," said Tim.

"Good – I'll go find them there. They wearing Tech jerseys?"

"Nah – Jay worried that we'd never find them in the sea of red. They're wearing their Pee-Wee jerseys – light blue, gold lettering. Team is called the Lions and their names are on the back. My nephew is number 73 and Noah is number 6."

Bo slapped Tim on the back, delighted to have run into his former neighbor. "OK, I'll go find them. I want to catch up with you later, though."

"Sure thing," said Tim, watching the quarterback walk away. He looked at Jackie and grinned. "I can't believe how tall he is."

"You and me both. Musta been the water in Louisiana or something because we don't have anyone near that tall in all of my family."

"Louisiana is where you ended up?"

"Yes, Shreveport, although I moved up here when Bo started at Tech," said Jackie, pausing to take a sip of her soda. "You know, I bet you don't have any idea how you changed Bo's whole life."

Tim was taken aback, his first thought was that he'd somehow messed the kid up for life.

"In a good way, Tim," assured Jacking, putting a hand on his arm. "You taught him two things I never would been able to – how to fight and how to throw a football. Leaving Dillon, giving him a fresh start, was the best thing for him, but not in the ways I expected. He was able to walk into the new school, put the bully in his place and then make the football team. It was amazing, really, the transformation."

Tim rested his hands on his hips and looked down at the ground, blushing. "It was nothing, Jackie, really."

"No, Tim, it wasn't. And I know you kept hanging out with him after I ended things with you," said Jackie, grinning when Tim looked up in surprise. "That's right, y'all thought you were so sneaky, like I wouldn't notice my nine-year old son climbing out the window to play football in the middle of the night."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"When we were over, then you were able to be his friend, no blurred lines, no confusion. It was good for him. He missed you when we moved – used to follow your games on the Internet. He was over the moon when he figured out he could listen to Panther Radio on the computer. That second time, y'all went to State, you could hear him screaming right down the street when you threw that touchdown. I swear, I didn't think he'd ever get over that loss."

Jackie looked up at Tim and smiled. "So, enough about the past. Tell me about you – what are you up to these days?"

"Well, I'm married, been married for five years. My wife and I met at Billy's garage-"

"Billy has a garage?"

"Yeah, Riggins' Rigs. He opened it...wow, must be eight, nine years by now. I went to college, but that didn't work out, so I went to work for Billy, which is where my wife was working."

"So you're still working there?"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "Nah. She's the better mechanic. I'm a stay-at-home dad and I watch Billy's kids as well. Hang on a second, there she is, I'd like you to meet my wife."

Tim took a few steps away and shouted to Al, who turned and came over slowly, Nicky walking next to her.

"I thought Billy was watching him," said Tim, scooping the boy up and holding him out to Jackie.

"Nicky, Al, I want you to meet my old neighbor, Jackie," said Tim.

"Hi, Al," said Jackie to Nicky, then she turned her attention to Al. "Hi Nicky, nice to meet you."

Al smiled. "Timmy, how many times do I have to tell you that you gotta introduce us better. You just confuse people all the time. I swear you find it funny or something."

Jackie blushed at her gaffee, but Al shook her hand and tried to reassure her. "Happens all the time, believe me."

"Well, it's great to meet you. Your son is beautiful – I love his eyes. And looks like he's going to have a new little brother or sister soon. Congratulations – when are you due?"

"Beginning of January."

"She's having twins," said Tim proudly. "Nicky's going to have to look out for two baby sisters."

"Timmy, when you talk about me like that when I'm standing right here, you make me feel kinda like your prized heifer at the state fair."

"Sorry, Al," said Tim, kissing her cheek and putting his hand on her shoulder, his fingers gently squeezing it.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it," she said, leaning into him.

"Hey, guess what, Jackie here is Bones Miller's mom. I just sent him over to surprise TJ and Noah."

Al grinned. "That's great for them, but poor Bones. Those kids are going to drive him to distraction. I better go check in on them, make sure they're not making total pests of themselves."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine. Bo loves kids," said Jackie.

Al held out her arms for Nicky, who reached for her, but Tim held him back. "Timmy," she said in voice with a warning edge. "How many times do I hafta tell you? I'm-"

"Pregnant, not crippled. I know, I know," he said with a sheepish smile as he handed over their son.

Al took Nicky, then pulled Tim down so she could kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear. "So, that's the old lady, huh? Can't wait to tell Tyra."

Al said goodbye to Jackie, gave Tim a wide, mischievous grin, and then headed off in the direction of the football camp.

Jackie smiled at Tim. "You seem so happy."

"I am," said Tim, his eyes still following Al through the crowd.

"It's so good to see you got what you wanted."

"What was that?" asked Tim, one eyebrow raised.

"A family," said Jackie quietly, then shook her head, as though clearing away old memories. "So, tell me, how's Billy? You said you've got a nephew?"

"Three of them, actually and one niece. His oldest, Amber, is eight and the youngest is just a few months older than Nicky."

"And tell me about his wife. She must have her hands full with a bunch of boys running around the place."

"His wife died in a car accident, a little more than a year ago," said Tim, looking down.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's just awful."

"It was. He's doing a lot better now, though." Tim rocked back on his heels and stretched his neck, looking over toward the cheerleading area. He spotted his brother, trying to clap for Amber even though he had Cody in his arms.

"You know what," said Tim, moving Jackie so she could see where Billy was standing. "You should to over there and talk to him."

"Oh, I don't know," said Jackie, blushing and fidgeting. "You know, he might not want to see me."

"Jackie, seriously, he'd love to see you." Tim gave her a look that he hoped would say everything inside his head – that they all were, at heart, the same people, just in completely different places in their lives and that things could be so different this time around.

"Is it okay....with you?" she asked.

Tim grinned. "It's fine, more than fine, in fact."

He put his hand in the middle of Jackie's back and gave her a gentle push, then stood with his hands on his hips, watching her drift across the field. She approached Billy tentatively, almost as though she expected not to be recognized or acknowledged. Tim watched surprise, recognition and then happiness move across Billy's face and he felt, for the second time in his life, like he'd put something right that had been broken in the past.


	58. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own anything here (except for Al and TJ****) ****and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.**

_Fourth of July Weekend, 2037_

Tim walked out on the front porch, leaned his shotgun against the corner railing and stretched his shoulder. The thunderstorm that had recently blown through had cleared the air but the accompanying low pressure aggravated his old football injury. He picked up the Irish wolfhound puppy that was dancing around his feet and settled into a comfortable wicker rocking chair.

The night air was still warm and Tim smiled, enjoying the sounds of crickets and katydids. He had recently decided that the front porch was his favorite place in the house and, quite possibly, in the entire the world. Nicky, Cody, Billy and he had built the porch a few years ago and there was no denying the satisfaction involved in creating exactly what you wanted.

The screen door squeaked open and Tino, Al's brindle Great Dane, lumbered out of the house and over to the space next to Tim's chair. The dog snuffled at Tim's hand before sinking onto the floor with a contented sigh. Al followed Tino out, pausing to make sure the screen door closed properly. Tim looked at his wife, her riot of blonde curls blowing in the breeze. She was wearing blue shorts and a yellow tank top, the thin strap sliding down her arm.

"How's it going, Mr. Riggins?" she asked, smiling at him as she walked over.

"Pretty damn good, now that you're here, Mrs. Riggins," he reached for her hand and pulled her close. She kissed the top of his head and then picked up his puppy, gently deposited him on a nearby chair and sat down in Tim's lap.

Tim opened his mouth to complain about his displaced dog when Al put a finger on his lips. "Play the long game here, Timmy. Who's going to be with you for the next 24 years?"

Tim grinned and gave her a quick kiss. "My wife is always right."

"Thank you. And happy anniversary."

"Is it past midnight already?" he asked, confused.

"No, it's still only about nine, but I wanted to say it anyway." She put her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. He could smell her coconut shampoo and a faint hint of her soap, which always reminded him of a rainy spring day.

"So, are you going to stay with me for another 24 years?" he asked with a smile, lightly rubbing her thigh.

"Well, the first 24 have been pretty good so I guess I'll stick around. How's your shoulder?" she asked, slipping her hand behind his back to gently massage it.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a moment before answering. "Bit sore, but it's starting to feel better now."

"I know you don't like to bother Donna when she's working, but you gotta let her help you lift the heavy stuff. You're not a teenager anymore," said Al.

Donna was TJ's girlfriend, a tall, dark-haired beauty from New Jersey whose worst habit was constantly cracking her chewing gum. She worked with Tim at his auto body shop, which Al had convinced him to open after the twins started school.

Tim liked the metal work, especially welding and hitting the dents out of panels, but he'd never been all that keen on the fussiness of touching up paint jobs and getting the finish exactly right. When TJ had mentioned off-handedly one night that his girlfriend was restoring an old Firebird, Tim had asked to see it and had offered her a job on the spot.

"I know," agreed Tim. "But I still hate having to ask her."

"Ask her. Or if she is really busy, call the garage and get TJ to come over. That'll get you through the summer at least." During the school year, TJ was the Automotive Arts teacher at the high school, but he picked up extra money on weekends and in the summer by working for Billy at the garage.

"I will. I promise," said Tim, pulling Al close to his chest and giving her a squeeze.

"Timmy, you had better tell me that gun is not loaded," said Al, pulling away from his chest to get a better look at the shotgun.

"Nah, it's not loaded. I just like to have it there for show. Give those guys who date our daughters something to think about."

Al laughed. "For Mindy's dates, I can actually agree with your plan. But for Maeve's boyfriend...you like Conor."

"I guess so. Or at least I like him as much as I'm ever going to like a guy who's dating my daughter. Plus, I've had plenty of time to get used to him," said Tim, referring to the fact that Maeve had started dating her boyfriend when they were both in seventh grade.

"Timmy, you have no idea what the girls do when they're away at college, so I don't know why you think you can supervise them when they come home for summer vacation."

Tim sighed. He knew his kids had to grow up and move away but he hated that his girls had gone so far away. Maeve had gotten an athletic scholarship for swimming at the University of Michigan. Mindy was at Western Oregon University, kicking for the football team and studying Fire Science, which always made Tim think of a pyromaniac in a white lab coat.

"I bet I can distract you," said Al, taking Tim's face in her hands. She put her lips on his, the kiss increasing in intensity as she moved her hands back through his hair, down his neck, across his shoulders and then down to his biceps, which she squeezed while rubbing her thumbs in small circles.

He kept his touches light and quick, never lingering too long anywhere. He brushed her hair aside and made a hot, soft trail of kisses away from her mouth, visiting all the best spots from her ear and to her neck before reaching her shoulder and collarbone. She unbuttoned his shirt and shifted in his lap so she could kiss his chest.

A sudden screech of wheels and blast of engine noise caused them to pull away from each other. Al straightened her tank top and hastily rebuttoned his shirt, then scrambled off his lap and sat in the other chair, remembering just in time to move the puppy.

The porch was dark but enough moonlight filtered in through the trees that they could see the car. Mindy got out, slammed the door and then kicked it before the car could start moving. As it pulled away, she managed to put a kick square into the tail light, shattering it easily.

"That's going to leave a dent," said Tim.

Mindy looked up, startled, then climbed the steps to the front porch. "Sorry, Daddy, I didn't realize you were sitting there."

"Want to sit down and tell us what happened?" asked Tim.

"Not much to tell, he's a jackass," she said with a shrug, flipping her hair off her shoulder. At first glance, Mindy and Maeve looked like replicas of their mother, with their short statures and blonde curls. It was only on closer examination that you could see their father in their startling green eyes and full mouths.

"He must have been a real jackass if you're home so early," said Al.

"He was, Mama, he was. We were at a party and I left to use the bathroom. When I got back, he had some girl in his lap, all nuzzling his neck and grinding against him. Then, he tries to tell me that it was an accident. That she just fell into his lap. Like the he was sitting under some sort of tree that dropped big-haired sluts instead of acorns."

Mindy's cheeks were flushed and Tim could practically see the anger radiating from her. Of their two girls, she was definitely the Collette. Her blood ran hot and furious most of the time and Tim hated arguing with her. She had a fast, smart mouth and the unnerving tendency to say hurtful things without even realizing it.

Still, Tim couldn't help but chuckle. "I coulda told ya that a boy from Arnett-Mead would be nothing but trouble."

Mindy rolled her eyes and stormed into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

"Timmy, was that really helpful?" asked Al as she stood up and deposited the puppy in his lap.

He caught her wrist and held it. "Wait a minute, you're leaving? But we were having fun."

"I have a feeling she wants to talk about it. We can have fun later," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders as she leaned down to seal the promise with a kiss.

He sighed and put his hands on top of hers, removed them from his shoulders and put a kiss on the back of each one before letting go. "Go on then....I love you."

"I love you too," she said with a wink before walking away. She held the door open for Tino and then disappeared into the house.

Tim ran his hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. "Looks like it's just you and me, Raffie."

The puppy nibbled Tim's finger, causing him to laugh. He knew Al would scold him if she could see it, but he firmly believed that the first week you had a puppy, you could let the rules go. Sort of like a grace period.

He debated getting up to grab a beer but found he was just too comfortable. Without a watch, it was easy to lose track of time, his thoughts wandering in no particular direction.

His musings were interrupted when Nicky pulled up in his car, a little red sports car that the boy had bought for nearly nothing because it had been in bad shape. Nicky and Al had fixed it up together, creating a respectable little car.

Nicky took the steps in two big bounds, gracefully landing on the porch.

"Nicky, would you be a pal and get your old dad a beer?" asked Tim.

"Only if you let me have one too."

Tim smiled. "It's fine with me, just don't let your mother see. If she asks, tell her they're both for me."

"You guys do realize that I'm going to be 21 in two months and it's not like I've never had a beer before anyway," said Nicky.

"Oh, we realize it. Your mother just feels better if she doesn't think about it, so don't do anything to make her think about it and we'll all be happy."

Nicky nodded and then went into the house. He returned moments later with two beers, the bottles immediately sweating in the warm night. He opened one and handed it to his father, then sat down in the chair.

Tim took a long pull from the bottle then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, you're home early."

"Yeah, Gracie has to babysit her nephews tomorrow so she wanted to make sure she's well-rested for it. Dakota and Denali could run anyone flat into the ground."

Tim heard about the boys from Coach all the time and from what he could gather, they made Hurricane Jack seem slow, Jack had calmed down a lot as he'd grown up.

But it hadn't surprised anyone when he decided to skip college and became a race car driver. Al had talked to him about it, telling him that he really didn't want to drive around in circles for the rest of his life. She wasn't trying to talk him out of his plan. She was merely steering him toward a more interesting form of racing: grand prix and Formula One.

"Did you end up going to the movies?" asked Tim, hoping to find out if the latest action-adventure sequel was worth the effort.

Nicky shook his head. "We went over to Julie and Ethan's for dinner."

"Oh," said Tim, trying to hide his grin behind this beer bottle.

He and Nicky looked at each other and said in unison "I chafe," then burst into nearly uncontrollable laughter.

"What does that even mean?" asked Tim, wiping away a tear.

"I have no idea," said Nick. "That guy is such a weenie. How the hell did Julie end up with him?"

It was a question that both Tim and Coach had asked themselves during many rounds of golf. On one hand, Coach was happy that Julie had gotten the job teaching English at Dillon Technical College, since it meant she and her boys were close by. On the other hand, Coach disliked Ethan and preferred it when they'd lived in Austin, since then he'd only had to see the guy at holidays and the occasional weekend visit.

Tim and Nicky drank their beers in companionable silence. When they were done, Nicky went into the house to grab round two. It was halfway through the second beer that Tim decided to speak.

"So....you and Gracie Belle, how's that working out?" he asked, keeping his voice casual.

Of all the improbable things Tim had seen happen in his life, his son dating Coach Taylor's daughter was the strangest. Julie had once told him that when she had started dating Matt Saracen and her mom had been freaking out about it, Coach had reassured her with the line "It's not like she's dating a serial killer or one of the Riggins boys."

But Nicky and Gracie Belle had gotten to talking at Denali's birthday party the past April. After graduating with a degree in Engineering and spending several years in the Peace Corps, she had returned to Texas to get a PhD from UT Austin. Tim didn't pretend to understand what she did and what she was studying, but she explained to him once that her dream was to invent a device that would bring clean, safe and reliable drinking water to remote villages.

"Good, Dad, really good. She's going to be my date for Amber and Noah's wedding."

Tim smiled. The long-anticipated wedding was finally drawing near. No one had doubted that they would one day get married, but Amber and Noah had taken their sweet time, preferring to wait until Noah had completed the joint PhD-MD program at Harvard.

Doctor Noah Street was happy because he'd just been informed that he had been accepted into the school's post-doc program and he could continue his research into using stem cells (_Real human stem cells, Uncle Timmy, none of that shark bullshit_) to treat spinal cord injuries. Amber was happy because she'd worked very hard to establish her interior design business in Boston and hadn't been looking forward to starting from scratch in a new city.

"Is Gracie spending the whole summer in Dillon?" asked Tim.

Nicky shook his head. He kept his blonde hair shorter than Tim's, but it was still longer than most guys', with bangs that flopped into his eyes and a hint of curls at the nape of his neck. "Nah, the PhD program is a year-round thing. She's back this weekend and then she'll come down for the wedding. And, you know, I'll be spending some time up there. Football camp starts in mid-August anyway."

"I'm glad you two are having fun together," said Tim, deliberately keeping his voice light.

"It's more than fun, Dad. I really like this girl. More than like her."

"I can see that, Nicky, but you know, the age difference and everything – I'd just be concerned that you're in different places in your lives."

"It's less than 10 years, only a couple more years than the age difference between you and Mom. And Mom told me that you were 19 when you met her, so it's kind of hypocritical for you to imply that I'm too young to know what I want or to be serious about a girl." Nick stated all this as calm fact. He wasn't looking for an argument, the way Mindy might have. He just wanted his father to understand what was going on.

Tim sighed. "That was a different situation. I'd just made the decision to drop out of college and come back to Dillon. Your mother had just made the decision to quit her job in Iraq and move to Dillon. See, we were both in the same places in our lives."

"So are Gracie and me. Well, kind of anyway. She's in school, I'm in school. We both have two more years to go."

"You're set on staying the full four years?" asked Tim. He rarely let himself finish that thought, the idea of what could happen next for Nicky, that he could actually play professional football. It wasn't that Tim didn't believe in Nicky and his ability. It was that he never wanted to think of his kids as anything other than normal, ordinary, regular.

The way JD McCoy's parents had treated him had creeped Tim out big-time. Even Six's parents had kind of lost their minds when the recruiters came around. Sometimes Tim wondered if Jay's accident would have been easier to accept if he'd been just a mediocre player. Getting paralyzed would always have been devastating, but there had been this sense that he'd lost so much more than his legs.

"Yeah, I think so. I don't know. I'd like to finish my degree." Nicky had inherited Tim's raw football talent and physical prowess along with his mother's work ethic and artistic skills. He was the only football player working on a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and Tim imagined he got a fair bit of ribbing for it.

"A college degree is a good thing to have."

"If Cody decides to go, then maybe I will too. It wouldn't be the same without Cody. But then what are the chances of us getting drafted to the same team?" Nicky pushed his bangs out of his eyes and looked at Tim. Cody and Nicky had played together their whole lives. They made a formidable QB and fullback pair since they were as close as brothers and could practically read each other's minds.

"Aunt Jackie called to say that Bo will be at their cook-out tomorrow, so you should ask him these questions. Who knows, he might have some insider information or something." Tim shrugged. After a successful professional football career, Bo had retired a couple of years earlier and gotten a job as the quarterback coach for the Dallas Cowboys.

"Yeah. And then, you know, there's Gracie and her future plans to consider. Her job's probably going to involve a lot of travel, maybe even living in a foreign country."

Tim looked down at his nearly empty beer bottle and started to peel off the label. "Well, you know, Gaughin did some great painting when he lived in the South Pacific."

Nicky nearly fell out of his chair from the shock of his father making that statement. "How the hell do you know about Gaughin?"

"Your mother dragged me to Boston once to see a special exhibition of his paintings that he'd done after he left France."

A ghost of a smile crossed Nicky's face. "Should have guessed Mama would have had something to do with that."

"Yes, your mother has done a fantastic job educating and civilizing me. It's been her life's work." Tim smiled.

"Dad, how long did you know Mama before you knew you wanted to marry her?"

"Three months. But I waited two years to ask her. There's no point in rushing into these things. If it's going to happen, it's going to happen. Might take ten years, but even the twistiest road eventually brings you to the place you want to go."

"Wow, Dad. That's deep," said Nicky, flashing Tim a grin that reminded him of trips to the zoo and the circus.

Tim smiled and shook his head. Nicky's phone rang and he took the call, mumbled a few words and then popped the phone back in his pocket.

"That was Cody – I'm going to hang out with him for awhile. I might just stay over there tonight."

Tim nodded, trying to hide his disappointment that his son was leaving. He'd really been enjoying their talk. Ever since Nicky started college, Tim felt like they didn't get to spend nearly enough time together.

Nicky stood up and punched his father gently in the arm. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Nicky," said Tim as he watched the boy trot down the stairs.

Tim leaned back in the rocker and rested his feet on the porch railing. The motion caused Raffie to become unsettled and tumble out of Tim's lap and onto his chest. The puppy looked up in surprise and confusion before making three careful circles. When he finally laid down, Raffie put his head on Tim's shoulder and curled the rest of his body into a tight circle.

Tim put his hand on the puppy, marvelling that he could nearly cover his entire body. He knew from past puppies, and his own children, that this baby phase didn't last very long and he had to enjoy it while he could. He smiled, since Raffie had been a surprise anniversary present from Al.

He knew that his present, which he'd give to her tomorrow in the form of a note inside a card, was also going to be a tremendous and welcome surprise – a three-week long vacation to Ireland in September. Billy already knew about it, since Tim'd had to check that the time off would be okay.

Tim heard the low-rumble of an engine and watched as Maeve's pickup truck came up the road and around the side of the house. He heard the soft-click of the door closing and then even footsteps on the gravel path. Instead of going up the steps, she took the ramp, which was at the side of the porch.

"Evening, Blue Gill," said Tim when she reached the top of the ramp. Maeve gave him a small smile and made to walk past him.

"Why don't you sit down and spend some time enjoyin' this lovely evening?" asked Tim, motioning to the chair next to him.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it, like she'd suddenly realized that she couldn't think of a single reason not to join her father on the porch. She sat down in another wicker rocking chair, scooting it forward so she could put her feet on the railing.

She was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, even though Tim felt the evening was still warm. A competitive swimmer, Maeve had very low body fat and got cold quite easily. It was the reason she'd gotten her nickname, since Tim had watched her shivering through the waiting periods at her very first swim meet when she was just six years old, the cold causing her lips to take on a blue tinge.

"Work okay today?" asked Tim.

Maeve nodded. "Nice and boring. Didn't have to save anyone. Just had to yell at kids to stop running and cut out the horseplay."

Tim let the silence stretch between them as he looked up at the patch of sky he could see between the porch roof and the nearby trees. The moon had gone behind the clouds so the stars twinkled more brightly than they had earlier.

"Daddy, can I hold Raffie, please?" she asked in a small voice that reminded him of when she was very young, a time that paradoxically seemed ages ago but also felt like it was just yesterday.

"Of course you can, but you're going to have to come over here and get him because I don't think I can move right now."

She popped out of the chair quickly, came over to Tim and picked up the puppy. Back in her chair, she replaced her feet on the railing and put Raffie on her chest, giggling when he licked her face. Tim watched her absentmindedly rub the puppy's ears and had the unmistakable sense that something was troubling his daughter.

"What's on your mind, Blue Gill?" he asked, his voice soft and even, encouraging her to open up to him.

She sighed and pulled her hood up over her head, the edge of it slightly obscuring his view of her face. "I don't know....I broke up with Conor tonight."

Tim's mind went into scramble mode, trying to think of how Al or Tami Taylor would greet that news. He took a deep breath and gave it his best shot. "Wow, that's a big change for you. Want to talk about it?"

Maeve was quiet for several beats, the only sign of her potential agitation was the way her heel was bouncing on the railing. Without saying anything, she reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a folded up square of paper. Stretching, she held it out to Tim, who leaned forward and was able to pluck it out of her hands.

He leaned back in his seat and slowly unfolded the paper, trying to quiet his mind and not think of all the horrible things it could be. (_Speeding ticket. Positive pregnancy test results. Court summons. Love letter from one of JD McCoy's sons.) _

When the square was unfolded, he tipped the page in the light and squinted at it, immediately noticing that it was from the US Swimming Association. He found the right angle to get enough light on the paper to allow him to read its message: an invitation to move to their facilities in Colorado Springs and train for the upcoming national and world championship swim meets.

"Blue Gill!" he exclaimed, unable to keep the pride and excitement out of his voice. "This is fantastic news."

"I know, right?" she said, allowing herself to smile and join in her father's excitement.

"And you broke up with Conor so you could focus on this?" he asked, shaking the paper but knowing that by 'this' he meant more than just the training. He meant her long-held dream of competing in the Olympics. A dream that she'd come so close to achieving the year before.

"Three-tenths of a second," said Maeve, banging her head against the back of the chair to emphasize each word. "Three. Tenths. Of. A. Second."

She'd only missed making the 2036 Olympic Swim Team by that narrow margin. Tim knew that she'd taken it hard, but he'd hoped that the last year would have given her time to let it go, to gain a sense of perspective. Although she was committed to redoubling her efforts for next time, Tim worried that she might be too caught up on what might have been.

Tim knew how tiny little things could change someone's life. Losing a race by three-tenths of a second. Missing a touchdown by mere inches. Angling your head a few degrees in the wrong direction.

"You gotta let that go, you know that, right?"

"I know, Daddy, I know. And when I got that letter, I decided that it starts now. 2036 – gone. A bad dream. A distant memory."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Although, how's this going to work with school?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, fidgeting. "I've decided to dedicate my life to swimming, so breaking up with Conor was part of that. Leaving school, at least for now, is also part of that. Moving to Boulder. Training full-time. It's all part of the that."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out through puffed-out cheeks. He jammed his hands in his pocket and looked over at his little girl. "So, what part of this are you worried about?"

"What do you mean?" Maeve asked, turning to look at him , her furrowed brow cute enough to make him smile.

"You're worried you're making a mistake. I can hear it in you voice. So which part of it feels like a mistake? Dumping Conor? Dropping out of school? Deciding to focus only on a single goal for the next three years?"

She looked out over the porch rail, her hand frozen on Raffie's back. She was silent for long enough that Tim began to wonder if she was ignoring him.

"Sorry, Daddy, I'm thinking," she said, once again exhibiting her uncanny ability to nearly read his mind.

After what felt like a nearly interminable silence, she spoke. "Maybe the problem is that none of it feels like a mistake. Which is making me worry that I'm missing something and it's all one giant mistake that I'm too dumb or short-sighted to see."

Tim shook his head, looking down and chuckling softly to himself.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked, her voice cracking once with indignation.

"This is just so like you, Moody Blue. You're not happy unless you're making things complicated."

She shrugged and Tim smiled. For looking so much like her mother, she thought and acted a lot like her father. Sensitive. Prone to living inside her own head. Wary of letting people get close. Tim was relieved and grateful that instead of seeking solace and release in the ways he had when he was a teenager, she had found it in competitive swimming.

Tim knew he wasn't supposed to have favorites and he didn't, exactly. He loved all of his children exactly the same – intensely, unconditionally, deeply. It was just that he felt an extra bond, a special connection with his youngest daughter.

"Blue Gill, look at me." He waited until she'd reluctantly turned her head and fixed her green eyes on his. "You're not even twenty years old. I know that usually when you hear that, it's because someone's going to tell you that you're too young to do something. In this case, time is on your side. Your age is your best asset."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Look, the best thing about being young is you got the rest of your life to fix what you break. You can make awful, horrible, _huge_ mistakes and eventually undo them or make up for them. Trust me on this," he said, reflexively looking over at Jay's house.

He continued, his voice low and earnest. "I'd never tell your sister this because she acts like rules are invitations to do the exact opposite, but I know you feel better when you know where the lines are."

"I like to swim in my own lane," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah. And your sister likes to belly flop into the middle of the pool and splash around like a wild thing.

"Anyway, look, here are three rules to follow and as long as you follow them, I promise you that everything will work out in the end."

She looked at him expectantly and he felt the weight of those expectations. Tim had a moment of panic when he worried that his words wouldn't be enough, but then he shook it off and plowed on.

"The rules: Number One: Don't kill anyone. Number Two: Don't get pregnant. Number Three: Don't get a tattoo."

"It's too late for Mindy on Number Three. She has a tattoo of a wolf on her-"

Tim cut her off. "Stop! If it's some place that I can't see in the course of an ordinary day, then I damn sure don't have to hear about it."

"Sorry, Daddy, forget I said anything."

"Right, where was I – yeah, those things. Don't do those three things. Those things are unchangeable, unfixable. Everything else, any other mistake you might make, you can move on and learn from it and hopefully come out on the other side as a stronger, wiser person."

Maeve nodded, considering his advice.

"No regrets, Blue Gill."

"No regrets, Daddy," she turned to him and her smile, wide and brilliant, caused something to catch in his heart. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the moment, to engrave it in his memory.

"There's just one thing," she said softly, causing Tim to open his eyes..

"What's that?"

She hunched her shoulders and looked at him sheepishly. "Will you break the news about school to Mama and Uncle Billy? I'm afraid they're going to be mad at me or disappointed or something."

Tim sighed. He knew he should tell her that part of growing up was learning to fight your own battles. But he could never resist that little sad face she was so good at making.

"Yes. I'll tell them tomorrow, before the picnic. What time are you training tomorrow morning?" By the time she was seven, Tim had already gotten sick of driving her to the swimming pool for practices, so they had put in a lap pool, which had more than paid for itself over the years in saved time and fees.

"Oh, Daddy. You don't have to get up. I'll be fine on my own."

"Safety first, Blue Gill. Besides, you need someone to time your sprints. And I'll have to get up early to let Raffie out anyway."

"A puppy may be a tiny creature, but it is a _big_ responsibility. Do you understand that?" she said, hands on hips in a dead-on impression of her mother.

Tim laughed. "Nice one. Don't let your mother see you do that."

"I'm going to start swimming at 5 so I'll be done by 7."

"You have to work tomorrow?"

"Nope. I got the day off for Uncle Billy's big picnic," she said with a smile.

"Good – I gotta drive over to the airport tomorrow morning to get Tyra, Jean-Luc, and Remy. You want to come along?"

Maeve nodded. "Daddy, Remy's not like actually related to us, like by blood, is he?"

"No, but it don't matter – he's _way_ too old for you, Bluey"

"It's not me. It's Mindy. I was trying to think of a reason to put her off and was going to try to convince her that we're cousins with him."

"Shit, just tell her that it would be great and would make everyone really happy if she got together with Remy. That should put her off."

Maeve giggled. "I don't think so, Daddy. She seemed seriously interested when they were here last Christmas."

"Are you sure she'd not just trying to wind you up?" asked Tim. Mindy's skills as a practical joker were legendary. Tim still remembered vividly how she came home from her first day at Dillon High and insisted she wanted to be a rally girl. Begged for days and drove Tim to distraction before he found out that she'd made a bet with Nicky (who'd said there was no way their father would ever agree to it) and she didn't actually want to be a rally girl at all.

"Could be, I guess. With Mindy, anything is possible." Maeve stood up and carefully placed Raffie in Tim's arms. He sat up so she could get past his chair on her way into the house. She stopped and thanked him, then leaned down and gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. He messed up her hair.

"I love you, Blue Gill."

"I love you, too, Daddy," she said before she went inside.

Tim stood up, holding Raffie under his arm like a football. He picked up the shotgun, went into the garage and locked it up in the gun cabinet. Then he carried the puppy out by the boat dock. He set Raffie on the ground and watched him snuffle around.

Tim leaned against a tree, bending his knee to rest one foot up against the bark. He looked out over the dark water with its calm surface. All he'd ever wanted was here....wife, kids, extended family, solitude, comfort, love.

He knew the precious things in life could be taken from him at any moment and that knowledge and urgency gave him a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation for what he had.

He'd been able to stay home, watch his kids grow up, guide them and watch over them. He knew they were approaching the point where he would have to let go, like when he'd taught them how to ride their two-wheelers. He would have to hold up his hands, step back and watch with his heart in his throat to see if they'd make it.

But he had faith. After all, he was living proof that you could mess up along the way and still manage to put things right All those experiences had made him who he was and had made his current happiness possible.

Whatever the next 24 years held, he would continue to be the best husband and father he could be. Because that's what mattered. That was his life's work and he had no regrets.

THE END

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**I can't believe I've finally managed to finish this story. It wasn't the story I thought I was going to write, but thanks to all your suggestions after my cry for help in Chapter 19, I think it's much better than my original intention. **

**Thank you for all the reviews, help and support. I would love to hear what you think of the final product, especially if I've not heard from you before. (Don't be shy – there's always private messages. :))**

**So, that's it. I have a hard time believing that one simple idea, two months ago has resulted in 160,000+ words and three full stories. I hope you've enjoyed reading them as much as I've enjoyed writing them. I thought I would be relieved to be done with the story. While there's a certain satisfaction in having created a complete, whole trilogy with a definite (and, I hope, satisfying) ending, I am very sad to be leaving Al, Tim, Billy and TJ behind.**

**Thanks for joining me on the journey.**


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